Chapter 37
CHAPTER 37
Tagger
Three weeks later . . .
“Thanks for meeting me, Tagger.” Anna takes a sip of wine, our eyes meeting in the mirror over her glass.
I’ve wanted to talk to her for so long about the promotion and Paris, but voicing it gave it life I wasn’t prepared to face yet. I’m on a mission, but I need to respect that there are two parents to consider. “What’s this about?”
She turns to face me, spinning the stem of the wineglass and resting her other hand on the wooden bar top. My gaze is drawn to her finger. “Oh . . .” It’s all I can muster.
“That’s all?” she says with a trickle of a laugh. “I almost expected something snarky.”
“It’s a beautiful ring. Quite the statement piece.”
“Five point five carats and the only statement it’s meant to make is that I’m engaged.”
“Congratulations. Marcel?” I don’t purposely rub her wrong. It just works out that way. Another reason we’re not together any longer.
“ Funny. Of course, it’s Marcel. He popped the question last week when you had Beckett.”
“Have you told him?”
Her eyes travel to the solitaire on her finger, a wistfulness coming over her as she sighs quietly. “I have.”
I imagine it’s a difficult conversation to have and one I’ve been thinking about a lot lately. “How did he react?”
Righting her shoulders, she sits straighter. “Marcel adores Beckett, but it’s not necessarily mutual. But these things take time.”
It didn’t for Pris. He took right to her. Not having met Marcel myself, I’ll assume our son has a good judge of character.
She says, “The wedding will be next spring.”
Hate stating the obvious, but I’m unclear how the pieces are falling together. “Beck will be in school.”
“I think it’s best. It’s going to be a large affair in the French countryside. Royals will be in attendance.”
“Sounds like all your dreams are coming true.”
She moves the diamond back and forth on her finger, then sets her hands in her lap. “We’ll do a smaller celebration with Beckett and some family when he can visit in the summer.”
“Visit?” My chest tightens for my son. “What are you saying?”
“I took the promotion, and I’m moving to Paris. I’m engaged and starting a life there. Marcel wants children.”
I stare at her, waiting to see where she’s heading with this. “Of his own.”
“Doesn’t every man?” She turns to her wine and takes another sip.
“I don’t know about every other man. You’re allowed to start a new life, but I’m wondering how Beckett will fit into it. That’s my only concern.”
She seems to be at a loss, but when tears fill her eyes, she says, “I love him more than anything, but I can’t compete against what you’re offering him.”
“What are you talking about, Anna?”
“He doesn’t want escargot or the Louvre. I could tempt with chocolate croissants because he loves those.” She smiles as if a memory has returned. Her eyes shift back to mine, and she says, “He loves horses, Peachtree Pass, the ranch and being a cowboy, painting the house with you, and . . .”
I can see the pain she’s fighting through, but she still carries her smile bravely. I need to know, though, so I ask, “And?”
Taking a deep breath that has her leaning back, she exhales slowly. “Your Christine.” My Pris. There’s a pause where her lips twist as if she doesn’t want to admit defeat. But it was never a contest. “He adores her. He’s told me so much about her that I think I adore her.” Dropping her hand, she shakes it under a humorless laugh. “I was so rude to her, too, and to you. I’m sorry. I don’t know why I was jealous, but I’ve thought so much about it and I’m happy you’ve found someone who not only loves you but also our son like her own. Though I don’t want him calling her mom. Okay?”
“Okay. Same goes for Marcel.”
“Do you love her?”
“I love her.”
Her smile is genuine, which gives hope for some reason. She says, “We’re moving in different directions, across continents, and he needs to live with one of us. Although it will shatter my heart to pieces, he’s happiest with you, and his happiness is more important than my sadness of missing him.”
I breathe. For the first time in weeks, I feel my lungs pumping air freely through my system. “Do you mean that?”
She nods, the confidence in her eyes and the smile that sits firmly in place underneath have me believing her. She says, “School starts at the end of August. I’ve already done research, and there are no private schools in the surrounding eight counties. But you have time to enroll him in Peachtree Elementary before the start of the year.”
“I’ll take care of it,” I say, not minding the to-do list she’s giving me because it’s more than errands and tasks. She’s giving me our son to raise where there’s room to spread his wings and run without cars threatening to hit him.
After taking another sip, she sets her heels back down on the floor. “I need to go. Marcel has never had a hot dog, and I told him Beck and I can take him to the best stand in the city.”
“Minelli’s on Fourth?”
She laughs. “You know I don’t care for street meat because yuck, but for Beck and I guess for Marcel, I’ll be hot dogging it for dinner.”
“I like this side of you.”
“The one risking my gastrointestinal tract?”
“The one that believes she deserves happiness as well.”
She playfully points a finger in my face. “I still get him during breaks.”
“And anytime in between. You’ll always be his mother, Anna, and as such, you have a place to stay in Peachtree Pass. Or if it’s too boring for you out there in the middle of nowhere, there’s a Four Seasons Resort near Fredericksburg.”
“I like the sound of that.”
“I’ll bring him to see you.”
“You’ve got yourself a deal. Tell your attorney to contact mine, and we’ll get everything sorted legally.” Leaning in, she kisses my cheek. Not quick to leave, she whispers, “You deserve happiness as well.” Straightening her back, she takes her purse from the bar and tucks it under her arm. “She’s a very lucky woman.”
I knew the moment I saw Pris in that sundries shop that I was the lucky one. She starts walking but turns back to say, “Oh, you got the tab, right?”
“I got you covered.”
“Thanks.” There’s a lightness to her steps. Happiness that I haven’t seen in her in years. It looks good on her. But I’m glad it’s not because it’s me. I wish her and Marcel the best. “We always made a good team like that.”
I hold up my bourbon. With that conversation out of the way, I’m finally able to take a sip. “Drinking and eating, and me paying the check?”
“You’re the best, Tagger. Toodle-oo.” Details need to be worked out, but the obstacles have been cleared from my path. I can work from anywhere or retire from asset management. But I also have more money than I can spend in a lifetime, so why not spend it with the two people I care about most?
One down.
My best friend to go . . .
* * *
Three days later . . .
I’ve been secretly trying to wrap up some of my accounts. The others will shift to Keith for him to keep or reassign. Nothing too obvious until I’m ready to announce.
Coming to sit in front of me, no notepad or e-pad, pen, or phone in sight, Kendra says, “Deloitte has been processed and shifted to the accounting team. Baer needs signed paperwork that I had delivered earlier today. But Mastrioni said they are happy with the work you’re doing and look forward to continuing when they paid their invoice on Tuesday.”
“That’s great. I suspect there will be another hefty bonus for us at the end of the year.”
“But you won’t be here?”
“I’ll still be—fuck.” I release a heavy sigh, knowing I can’t hide it from her.
She gets up to close the door. When she returns, she asks, “So you are leaving?”
Sitting back, I steeple my fingers. “I’m not walking out the door tomorrow. But I plan on giving notice before the end of July. I’m hoping that’s enough time to wrap up what I can and reorganize the team for the clients.”
“It was the biscuits, wasn’t it?”
I chuckle. “The biscuits helped, but I was already in love.”
“Oh Tagger, that’s so romantic. You deserve this. You work hard, you’re a great father, but you also need a life. If that’s what she gives you, then I couldn’t be happier.”
“She makes me want to change my life. She makes me want to be a part of hers, to use my hands again, to work the land, and get back to my roots.” I’d already shared that Anna was moving to Paris, so she knows Beck will be with me.
“I forgot to mention you’re a great boss.”
“It’s been great to work with you. I’ve been thinking about consulting and working freelance. If that’s something you’d be interested in?—”
“I’m interested.”
I rest my hands on the desk. “I’ll keep you in the loop with what’s going on, then.”
She stands. “Remember to invite me to the wedding.”
Chuckling, I reply, “You’re on the list.”
I rush home to change into basketball shorts and a tee before racing out the door in my sneakers. It’s later than I intended, but there’s so much to do lately that time is lost if I’m not paying attention.
Walking onto the courts, I scan the players before finding Baylor playing on the back third. They’re short a player since it’s usually me, but I don’t jump in. That’s not how pickup games of basketball work around here. I lean against the fence and wait for someone to score.
Baylor sees me out of the corner of his eye but keeps playing. He’s not been responding to my texts or calls. I even sent him an email to see if he’d reply. He didn’t.
One team scores points, and they scatter to take a water break. Baylor walks by me and says, “Find another team, asshole.”
“Fuck you, Baylor.”
“ Ohhhh ,” the other players caught that and start to laugh.
Holding the water bottle at his side, he says, “Fuck you, man. Go find another court.”
He flips me off, then squirts water in his mouth.
“No. We will either take this out on the court or take it off the courts and get it all out. Your choice.”
He comes closer, looking me up and down like the sight of me pisses him off. “You don’t get to make the rules. You’re the one who fucked up by fucking my sister.”
“ Dammmnnnn ,” another player says, holding his fist to his mouth. “That’s dark, man.”
I don’t even know who this dude is. “I don’t need the commentary. Thanks.” Baylor is tossed a basketball, which he starts dribbling in beside him. That he’s even listening is progress. “We’ve invested thirty years into this friendship. You ready to let it go? Because it’s in your hands.” Crossing my arms over my chest, I ask, “What’s it going to be, Greene?”
He eyes me over his chin, then tosses the basketball to another player. “Fine, we’ll talk outside the courts.” He grabs his stuff and heads for the exit.
I follow, giving him the space I think he needs. He takes a left and heads for some benches where spectators sit. Sitting on opposite ends, we still take up most of the bench. I rest my forearms on my knees and watch the games being played before us. “I should have talked to you.”
He looks over at me. “And say what? You want to sleep with my sister? Not sure that approach would be any better.” He returns his gaze to the courts. But then he sits back and says, “I heard what you told my dad.” He looks at me. When I look at him, I nod. “You love her?”
“I’m in love with her.”
“Why?”
“What do you mean why?”
“What is it about her that you fell in love with?”
“Oh, um.” I glance at the sky. I know the answers, but I just don’t know if he wants to hear them. He’s asking for a reason, so I’ll respect him enough to honestly respond. “She’s funny and smart. She knows who she is and doesn’t hide it.” I close my eyes and see her face in my head, her sitting in the wildflowers, staying with her horse during the storm, her hair splayed over the pillows of our place in the barn. “She knows how to fix an irrigation system and make a killer peach pie.” I look over at him, lowering my voice. “She’s beautiful inside and out.”
“She’s just like my mother. It’s like looking at Mom sometimes.”
“She has her strength and determination, her dad’s easygoing nature, and her brother’s charisma.”
“That’s all I get? Charisma.” He rolls his eyes and chuckles. “It’s a start, so I’ll take it.”
“She rolls her eyes like you just did.” I glance between the game on the court in front of us and then at him again. “You guys are more alike than you realize. She’s got your sense of humor?—”
“My humor is in the gutter.”
I shrug. “Point proven.”
“Jesus. I don’t want to know that shit about my sister.” But the smile on his face tells me he’s not too bothered. He looks over at me once more, and asks, “Have you told her all that?”
“Give or take.” I take a few seconds to breathe, then add, “She loves hard and gives all of herself to the people she cares about, but let me tell you what opened my eyes to the woman she’s become.” He’s staring at me, but a lump forms in my throat. I push through and swallow it down. “Seeing her with my son. That changed everything for me.”
“And made you break your promise.”
“I’m sorry about that.”
“We were stupid kids. Twelve years was a good run, but I never should have made you agree to it. It was about then. I never thought about the future. But I have had a lot of thoughts about that lately. My best friend marrying my sister might not be the worst-case scenario. I mean, we’re already like brothers.” He stands up and holds out his hand. I stand while shaking it. Bringing me in for a shoulder bump, he says, “Promise me you’ll never hurt her.”
I chuckle, feeling we’ve come full circle. “I promise. I love her so much that it hurts to be apart.”
I’m given another eye roll. “Fine, we’re friends again even if you did take a cheap shot and punch me in the face.”
“Sorry about that, but it was either you or me and?—”
“I’m in a different headspace now, but I do owe you one.”
He’s not going to do it, but I can go with the flow on this one. “Sure, if it will make you feel better.”
“Not sure if it will, but we’ll find out.” Backing up, he laughs. Crossing his arms over his chest, he stares ahead, seemingly caught in his thoughts. But then he says, “Be truthful.If you had to choose . . .”
“I choose her. Every time.”
“You’re such an asshole.” Grabbing me into a headlock, he scrapes his knuckles over my head. That’s my asshole best friend. It’s good to have him back. “Come on. Let’s go play some basketball.”
The rest of the week has flown by with all the things I need to put in place. By Sunday evening, I sit with Beckett, eating ice cream at a shop around the corner from my building. Anna and I sat down with him when I came to pick him up. We discussed the plan we’ve put in place, then asked for his input.
It will be hard not seeing his mom every other week, but we showed him how they’ll video call and talked about visiting. He’s a resilient kid. He’ll go through some adjusting, but he’s happy to be going to Texas. Not so happy about leaving his friends at school.
That’s when I promised him his own horse . . . Promises just fly off my tongue, but these I’ll keep.
“I told Seraphina I was going to marry her, but she has to like horses.”
Chuckling, I say, “Wise words, kid.”
“But now I’m moving.”
I lick my ice cream and think about Pris. “If it’s meant to be, it will be.”
“Like you and Miss Christine?” Bending his head to the side, he’s quick to lick a spot on the cone before it drips.
“Yes. What do you think about me marrying her?”
He’s determined to retrieve a gumball from the ice cream with his tongue, so he’s momentarily distracted. But then he says, “I thought you were. I thought when you found the secret ingredient, that meant you were together forever.”
Grinning like a fool, he’s teaching me as much as I am him. “Yeah, that’s how it works. I’m just going to make it official when we go back.”
He lowers his cone and tilts his head. “By giving her a house?”
I tap his nose and rub his head. “That’s not a bad idea, kid.”