Chapter 42
MAE
“He went… fishing?”
“Apparently,” Pia said. “He texted me earlier but I was at the doctor’s office and just saw it. Routine checkup. Then Mason said something about him going fishing.”
Mason was the one who sent me over here, to the inn side of the building.
I was glad everything was okay with Pia.
But…
“He went fishing?” I repeated, trying to decide if I wanted to laugh or throw something.
“I feel like there’s more to this.”
I began to pace in the reception room, meticulously re-decorated to give Heritage Hill a more modern feel but also capturing the small town, lakeside vibe that had always been here.
“Yeah,” I said. “But I’m sure the last thing you want to do is re-hash mine and Beck’s first fight.”
“First? Come on. You must have fought before?”
“Teasingly, sure. But for real? Never. I guess that’s what happens when you complicate something good.”
“Your friendship.”
It was not a question, so I didn’t answer. Instead, I looked at the photos on the wall. Many of them were of Mason’s parents and him when he was young. Papa Bennett had been absolutely devastated when his wife died, according to my parents.
It was so sad. And a good reminder that I was wasting time being angry when today was just as much my fault as Beck’s. Sure, he’d thought the worst of me. But how else was the guy supposed to feel when I’d been giving him mixed signals?
Brakes. No brakes.
“Yeah,” I said finally. “It was always so easy before…”
“Couples fight,” she said.
“But we’re not a couple.” I finally stopped circling the room and sat down. Pia joined me on the couch.
“Do you want to be?”
“If I could look into a crystal ball and know things will work out, and that we’re not ruining a friendship trying to make it more than that, yes,” I said with as much certainty as I’d felt in a long time.
“You know as well as I do, there are very few guarantees in life.”
I thought about that for a second. “True. But we have a good thing, Beck and me. And look at today. Our first fight.”
“Maybe you could have a better thing?”
“I still can’t believe he’s fishing,” I said. “Like it’s no big deal. I’ve been losing my mind all afternoon. I hate this. The only reason I didn’t text him back sooner was because I didn’t know what to say.”
“And you do now?”
“No,” I admitted. “But I know being mad at him feels horrible. I hate it.”
“Seems like a good start to me.” Pia smiled. “You’re welcome to stay until he gets back.”
“Thank you,” I said sincerely. “I might head home. It’s been a day.”
“I bet. Want me to tell Beck you were here?”
“Sure. Thanks, Pia,” I said, just as my phone rang. “It’s Jules. I’ll catch you later.”
She waved as I made my way out of the inn and started walking to my parents’.
“You don’t check your texts these days, or what?”
I pulled the phone away from my ear. Sure enough, Jules had texted “call me.”
“Oops, sorry. I was actually just going to call you. I had the day from hell—”
“I know. He was here.”
I stopped on the sidewalk. “What?”
“Beck. Was here.”
Here? It was Monday.
“He came to the college?”
“Yep.”
“Why?”
“Why do you think?”
Holy shit. “What did he say? I can’t believe he came to your work.”
“You and me both. Nearly scared the crap out of me since I didn’t expect any students. Beck told me all about lunch, and that you wouldn’t text him back. Apparently he looked for Pia but couldn’t find her.”
“She was at the doctor’s office,” I said, just as two kids went running past me toward the square. I watched him play kickball for a second and then kept walking. Baby. Kids. I wanted that.
Beck would be an amazing father, I had no doubt.
“Anyway, he wanted to talk about what happened. Asked for my advice.”
This day just kept getting weirder and weirder. “I don’t even know what to say.”
“I did, apparently. Words just came out of my mouth, as if I were Carolyn. Maybe I have learned a thing or two from her.”
Carolyn was Jules’s therapist. She adored her and had been with her for years.
“So he told you everything?”
“He did.”
“What did you tell him?”
She hedged. “I feel like that would violate patient confidentiality.”
She was a nut. “Except, he’s not your patient.”
“True, but still.”
That was one of the things I liked best about Jules, actually. She wasn’t a gossiper. So I let her off the hook. “Fair enough. But since you know the whole situation, what are your thoughts? For me, specifically, Dr. Porter.”
She cleared her throat. “Well, in my professional opinion…” I stepped onto my street. “I believe you two need a little space tonight to reflect. Talk tomorrow with clear minds and go from there.”
“Wise words,” I said. “I’m actually just walking into my house.”
“Alright, will let you go. I’m considering dragging my butt to the gym.”
“I have to get over there and join. Maybe we can convince each other to go.”
“Do you know how happy I am that you’re thinking to stay?”
“Yeah, well, to make that happen, I’m gonna need a whole lot of clients. We’ll see how excited you are when I make you carry my cards to hand out.”
“I will stand on the street corner in a croissant outfit and pass out flyers if you stay.”
I laughed, trying to imagine Jules as a croissant. “I might take you up on that. Goodbye, you nut.”
“See you later.”
“Hey, kid. What’s so funny?” my dad asked as I walked into the kitchen.
I still hadn’t told Dad about the business. I wanted to firm up some things and then surprise him. I knew he’d be proud, and happy that I would be staying in Cedar Falls. He’d taken it really hard when I left for France, and even worse when I decided to stay.
“Jules,” I said, evasively. “How’s the bread-making going?”
“Not bad,” he said, taking his latest masterpiece from the oven. “It’s a good distraction.”
I breathed in the smell of fresh baked bread and could already taste it. “I bet it’s hard, huh? Not being at the bar?”
“Eh, it’s not so bad. Specially since your mom and I are already making plans to go back and get settled into the condo.”
“That’s awesome,” I said, taking butter from the fridge. “I can’t wait to see it.”
Dad turned off the oven. “I still can’t believe we snagged it.”
He looked at me, as if he knew something I didn’t.
“What’s the weird look for?”
“The money. For the downpayment. He went to his parents, didn’t he?”
Wait, what? “Beck?”
“No, the other guy who bought the bar.”
“Honestly, I have no idea. He didn’t mention it.
But…” That made sense. Sort of. It was a lot of cash to have sitting around.
But the idea of Beck asking his parents for money?
“If he did”—I shook my head and looked my dad in the face, already sensing the answer—“that would be huge. It’d kill him to ask them for anything, especially money. ”
My dad studied me. “I know.”
Suddenly, this wasn’t just about the condo. Or whether or not Beck had asked his parents for money. It was about his relationship with my parents, something that meant a lot to him. And us. I slunk into the chair.
“Dad?” I asked. Mom would kill me, that she wasn’t the first to know. Only because there wasn’t much to know, yet. “I think we need to talk. About Beck.”