20. Mason
20
MASON
I ’d worked hard today, the spring sun warming me from the inside out, making sweat drip down my back like it was the middle of July. Even though we’ve been here for a while, the Tennessee heat still surprises me on days like today.
There’d barely been enough time to shower and shave before I needed to be at Lana’s but I’d managed. I wasn’t what anyone would consider high maintenance. Hell, most of my life there’d been no maintenance at all.
But times had changed.
Hot showers, a full belly, and clean clothes had been the beginning, and Bodhi and I had worked our asses off to ensure we’d never be without those things again.
“Let it Run” by Canaan Cox plays through the truck as I make the turn down her road, my heart beating a little faster in my chest the closer I get to the house.
Because this is everything I’ve ever wanted, like a dream I might wake from at any second.
I deserve happiness.
I repeat the words over and over as I pull into her driveway and park, breathing deep to calm my nerves.
This is the easy part.
I chuckle to myself, thinking of the words Bodhi had said to me before I left. Kids were the easy part because so much of me still resonated with them. I’d seen so much— experienced so much— that I knew I’d always treat them the way I wish I had been.
That thought settles my soul, the rightness of tonight, of this, washing over me.
Grabbing the flowers from the passenger seat, I get out of the truck and make my way up the sidewalk. I knock on the door, and not a breath later, Holland swings it open.
She’s wearing jeans and a flowy pink top with tan cowboy boots and the biggest smile.
“Don’t you look fancy tonight, Miss Holland,” I tell her, “and I love your braids.” She touches them and her smile grows impossibly wider.
“Mommy did them.”
“She did a great job,” I say with a wink as I hand her one of the bouquets. “These are for you.”
She squeals, and then hugs me before running into the house. “Mommy! He got me flowers!”
“He did?” Lana says with a tone that sounds both surprised and not. I grin as I close the door behind me and hand her the other bouquet as I kiss her on the cheek.
“These are for you.”
“Thank you.” Her eyes sparkle, and I give myself the briefest moment to take her in, barely holding back a groan as I do.
“You look incredible,” I murmur before taking her hand and spinning her. “Beautiful.” Her dark wash jeans are painted on and paired with a simple black tank top and a plaid button-down and her boots. She looks downright edible.
And we are not alone.
So, I tuck those thoughts away for later.
She laughs and Holland claps. “Spin me!”
And I do, using my other hand, her braids flying around her making her giggle as Beck comes into the room.
“Hey man, are you ready?” I ask as I hold my fist out to him. He nods and bumps my hand.
“Do we have to dance at this thing?” he asks, and I do my best to temper my smile as I shake my head.
“Only if you want to.”
Seemingly appeased, he grabs a baseball hat and puts it on, my own turned backward like it is most times.
The exception being that fateful day in the grocery store.
I don’t miss the way he eyes it now before looking away.
It’s the proverbial elephant in the room and I’ll have to tread lightly. Even if Beck wants to hold me to an impossible standard, I’ll jump through every hoop and scale all the walls he puts up.
Because he’s worth it.
And I’ll prove I’m worth it too.
A crowd has already gathered at the Brew, Q, ’n Boogie, with trucks and cars lining the grass lot. I’d been here more than a few times since moving to Blackstone Falls, and if a place had a vibe this would be it.
People laughing and dancing, eating and drinking, and otherwise just having fun. There’s an energy here I crave, like recharging a battery that’s depleted by the monotony of daily life.
All the reasons I love this place are the same reasons Bodhi does his best to avoid it. It’s too loud.
Too crowded.
With a general happiness he can’t quite fake.
I stopped asking him to come after more than one person had asked him if he was mad and he had to explain that it’s just the way he looks.
“Wow,” Holland breathes as she looks out her window, her face practically pressed against the glass. “Do they have French fries?” she asks, her gaze locked on the line of food trucks as I find a spot and put the truck in park.
“I believe they do,” I say with a grin over my shoulder at the same time Lana says, “You need to eat actual food, too, not just snacks.”
Beck snickers and Holland sticks her tongue out at him. Lana sighs and I chuckle because I love it.
Every single second.
Piling out of the truck, Holland takes Lana’s hand as Beck walks on her other side. It’s endearing, the kids forming a barrier around their mother as we walk into the crowd.
“What are y’all thinkin’? They have burgers and chicken, those onions they deep fry whole, and I think there’s a wood fire pizza truck around here somewhere too.”
The kids hem and haw over the choices, finally deciding on pizza for Holland and a burger for Beck. Lana and I split the difference and decide we’ll share pizza and a cheesesteak.
“Take Beck and I’ll take Holland, and we’ll meet at those tables over there,” I tell Lana, fishing my wallet from my pocket and handing her more than enough to cover their food.
She stares at the money and frowns. “I can pay for it.”
Folding it into her hand, I give her a small smile. “I know you can, but I invited you out and I’d really like to take care of you and the kids tonight.” Lowering my voice, I add, “I work hard, Lana, and for the first time in my life, I have more than enough to get by.” I shrug. “I’ve never had that before.”
Rolling her lips inward, she’s caught between tempering a smile and blinking back tears. I know the feeling.
“All right then, but we get to buy dessert,” she says, her fingers lingering against mine.
“Deal.” Leaning up, she presses a light kiss to my cheek, earning a grunt from Beck that I ignore as that single touch sends a little jolt of electricity through my veins. “Are you ready, Miss Holland?”
“Yes!” she cheers as I hold out my hand for her.
“Think we can beat them?”
Her eyes sparkle as she beams at me. “Definitely!”
“What? No way! Ma, let’s go!” Beck yells, grabbing Lana’s hand and dragging her away. She laughs, jogging to keep up with him as we do the same.
It’s silly and in the end it’s more or less a draw. Their line was longer but our pizza took more time to cook. Beck declares them victorious and gloats while we eat. The conversation is easy, Beck talking about football and Holland filling us in on the drama in second grade.
It is eye-opening to say the least. I’d never really had friends growing up besides Bodhi, so I’d been oblivious to the social constructs in school. Lana talks about some of the things happening at the university, and I tell some of the more outlandish stories about working with Case and Otto Thayer.
As dinner winds down, I catch Holland staring longingly at the people dancing to the music, her toe tapping on the grass as she bounces a little in her seat.
“Can I have this dance?” I ask her, those big green eyes like her mama’s lighting up as I hold out my hand to her. She nods, putting her small hand in mine and letting me lead her into an open spot. The band starts playing a cover of “My Girl” by Dylan Scott, and I swing Holland around, spinning her this way and that as she learns the steps.
We’re on our second dance before Beck holds his hand out to Lana, and the pure joy on her face is absolutely everything. They’re far less coordinated than the steps I’m doing with Holland, the two of them doubled over laughing as Beck hooks his arm in hers and spins her around.
But I know that means more to Lana than anything I’d be doing out here given the chance.
And I do get the chance a short while later as Beck starts doing the steps to some popular dance on social media, Holland chiming in helpfully to tell him he’s doing it wrong. Lana fits herself under my arm, angling her body so it’s pressed against mine as we watch them.
“Thank you for this,” she says, her expression one of pure contentment as she looks up at me. “Tonight was perfect.”
I grin and hold her tight because, yeah, tonight was pretty damn perfect.
“How do you feel about hot air balloons?”