Chapter 20 – Rosie
ROSIE
It shouldn’t have been hard to let Charlie go with Beck.
He is her father after all. But he still doesn’t know her that well.
He’s never dealt with her having a meltdown or a spiral.
And what if he can’t tell the difference?
Between a typical child tantrum and an anxiety-induced spiral.
Just because he lives with anxiety and panic attacks doesn’t mean he can see it in another person.
It’s only ice cream. They’ll be gone for an hour or two tops. She’ll be fine, I tell myself as I fix a charcuterie board for girls’ night with Stella and Daisy. The distraction will do me some good.
There’s a knock on the back door and after I open it, Daisy and Stella squeal and rush inside Dottie’s seaside cottage. Stella gives me a hug and holds out a bottle of wine. Daisy’s arms are full as she carries in ice cream and more wine.
We all go into the kitchen and Stella starts opening drawers. “Where’s Dottie’s wine opener?”
“Second drawer to the right of the fridge.” I point.
“Got it,” she singsongs, holding it up.
“Yum, everything looks delicious.” Daisy studies the goodies on the charcuterie board.
Stella twists the wine opener into the cork. “So do we want to watch a movie, or do we want to talk?”
“I don’t care.” I take the ice cream from Daisy and put it in the freezer.
“I’m up for anything. Have either of you seen that new rom-com on Netflix?” Daisy plops down on a stool at the kitchen island.
“Are you kidding? I haven’t seen anything that’s dropped in the past few months.” I pull a stack of plates out of the cupboard and set them on the counter.
“Sounds like we should watch a movie. Girl, you’re missing out.”
“I don’t even know how you find the time. You’re at Peace of Cake twenty-four seven.” Stella finally pops the cork.
“Not twenty-four seven. But yeah, I’m there a lot. Willow needs me more right now.”
“Maybe if her prick of a nephew had stuck around instead of ditching her and the business, you wouldn’t have to work so much.”
Daisy dips her chin to her chest, tucking her blonde hair behind her ear. “It’s fine. You know I don’t mind. I love what I do.”
“And it loves you. You’re so good at it,” Stella says.
“I can’t believe Christian never came back.” A few high school memories play through my mind. “I guess I assumed he would’ve come back after college. That was his plan, wasn’t it?”
Daisy rolls her eyes. “Was—key word. Instead of using his business degree to come back to Golden Harbor and take over Peace of Cake as planned, he used it for evil. Got some hot-shot job in LA making the big bucks. Guess when you get used to looking at an income with that many zeros, you no longer want to take over the family business.”
“Willow has been real sick,” Stella explains.
“Oh no, I’m so sorry, Daisy. I didn’t know.”
“She has good days and bad.” She sniffs.
“But if something happens to Willow, Peace of Cake will be in good hands.” Stella gives Daisy a pointed look.
I glance back and forth between them. “You?” I gesture with an empty wineglass at Daisy.
“That’s the hope. I’ve been there since practically day one. My mom and Willow have been best friends since college.”
“And she works her ass off.”
Daisy waves off Stella. “Anyway, bingeing my shows is all I have in this life.”
“Not true. You have us.” Stella pours the dark red wine into the glasses.
“For now,” I correct her.
“What do you mean for now? Stella said Dottie wanted you to move back to Golden Harbor and that she left you the cottage.”
I shoot a look at Stella.
She hikes her shoulders up toward her ears. “You never said it was a secret.”
“It’s not. It’s fine. It’s just…things are complicated.” I rub at my temples.
“What kind of complicated? Like Beck-complicated?” Daisy waggles her light brows while smirking.
My mind drifts back to the other night when Beck was in the bathroom with me and then afterward when I nearly confessed I was still in love with him. “No,” I finally say, accepting the wineglass Stella’s holding out for me.
“That was a long pause,” she accuses.
“What’s going on with you two?” Daisy brows lift in interest.
“Nothing.”
“No, girl, you can’t lie to us. This is you and Beck. Things with you two have always been more than complicated.”
“Well, if that’s true, things got more complicated. Not just with Charlie, and Dottie leaving the cottage to me. But then learning what Dottie’s wishes were.” I shake my head, pushing back unwanted emotions.
“Maybe it’s time for a pros and cons list,” Daisy says over her shoulder as she leads the way toward the sofas in the living room set up into an L-shape.
“Oh, yeah because that always goes over well in romcoms,” Stella chimes in, carrying the charcuterie board.
“Making a list is pointless. I can’t move here. West would never.” I plop down on the end of one of the sofas and hold my glass out so wine doesn’t swish out.
“If he really, truly loves you and wants to spend the rest of his life with you, he should at least consider it. That’s love. That’s marriage. It’s full of compromise.” Holding her glass up at me, Stella gestures with her chin before swirling her wine around and taking a sip.
I know she’s right. I should be able to talk to West about all of this and not make the decision on my own. But what kind of job opportunities would he have in Golden Harbor? His current job is too involved to do remotely. And I’m not a fan of long-distance relationships.
“What about Charlie? Has she said what she wants?” Daisy asks, plucking a cracker and a piece of cheese off the tray before tucking her legs underneath her.
“She’s six. What do you think she wants?” I glance at her. “She wants to stay here, by the beach, with her dad”—I mimic a child’s voice when I say the last part—“but she also said West can come visit. She doesn’t understand.”
“Maybe he can. Maybe he comes on the weekends.”
“Call me old-fashioned, but I don’t want a husband only on the weekends.”
“Well, you’ve had one that you haven’t seen for seven years and that hasn’t seemed to bother you.”
I shoot her a glare.
“Damn, Daisy,” Stella drags out, eyes wide.
“Sorry.” She winces. “I didn’t mean it how it came out.”
“No, no. I deserve that.” The food choices spread out on the charcuterie board no longer look appetizing.
Daisy pats my leg. “No, you don’t. And I am sorry. I know it was hard for you to stay here. Thinking you’d lost the baby…” She shakes her head. “I can’t imagine.”
“And we’re glad we got to spend these few days with you. Charlie too.” Stella smiles at me and warmth blooms in my chest. “We’ll support you in whatever you decide. As long as you don’t go seven years without seeing us again.”
My lips tug up at the corners of my mouth. “Deal.”
After Beck brings Charlie back, Stella and Daisy leave and the three of us watch a short show on TV like a regular family. She asks if he can read to her and tuck her in. I try not to allow the hurt to show on my face when I tell her it’s fine and kiss her good night from the couch.
Respecting their time together should come easier, especially since they’re up there saying goodbye. Even though we’ll be back in about a week, I’m sure it’s hard on Beck. He’s just learned he has a daughter and now I’m taking her away.
I clean up the dishes, handwashing the wineglasses while my mind processes the conversations from the evening with my friends.
Footsteps sneak up behind me and I whip around. “Beck. You scared me.”
He rubs at the back of his neck, shielding his wet eyes from me, and there’s an instant ache in the center of my chest. “So, I’m gonna go.”
It’s a silly question, but I ask it anyway. “Are you okay?”
There’s a moment of silence. He pinches at his eyes with his thumb and finger and deflects the question. “Do you need me to drive you to the airport in the morning?”
“No, Stella’s already offered.”
“Oh…okay.” He takes a step backward. “So?” I ask and wait, looking intently at her. “Have you thought more about moving to Golden Harbor?”
“I have. And I can’t.”
A grumbling sound escapes his lips as he drops his head.
“I need to go back to Seattle and let Charlie finish her last week of school and get some other things straightened out. I need to talk with West in person. And tell him that Charlie has met her father. I can’t have this kind of conversation over the phone.
I also need to reschedule appointments for my clients with other stylists.
Then Charlie and I will come back to Golden Harbor once she’s on summer break. ”
Beck lifts his gaze, and we lock eyes. His chestnut brown’s glaze over and he doesn’t speak.
“It will give Charlie some more time to make memories here at Dottie’s…and with you. And it will give me time to pack this place up and get it listed.”
Sadness washes over his expression.
“Don’t give me that look, please. For now, it’s the best I can do.”
His eyes appear heavy. “I guess that’s something.”
“Then we’ll make plans for you to come visit Seattle in the fall. Charlie will be in school, so maybe over one of her breaks. Or Thanksgiving. Maybe start looking at hotels now.”
“I guess,” he mutters.
“Well, you weren’t expecting me to offer you a room at West’s, were you?”
“Honey, if you’re living there, planning to marry the guy, maybe it’s best time you start calling it your place too?”
I narrow my eyes. So we’re back to the nickname again.
“Seems like you’ve given this a lot of thought.”
“I have.” I try to push confidence in my tone.
He takes a step closer and his short beard and mustache have me imagining what it would feel like having it touch my bare skin. His defined chest is visible in the solid black T-shirt he’s wearing. What is he doing?
“So you’re sure this is what you want?” His voice is gravelly and sexy.
What am I saying—sexy?
I nod once and swallow. “It is. It will be best for Charlie.”
“And what about you?” He takes another step closer.
Heat races straight through my core and I mindlessly trace my fingertips over the front of my throat. “What about me?”
“What do you want, Rosie?”
My eyes search his, just trying to place what I’m seeing reflected in his darkened brown stare. Craving? Tenderness? “What I want doesn’t matter.”
“That’s BS and you know it,” he mutters.
“Well, maybe I don’t get what I want,” I fire back, pushing up the sleeves of my sweater. “I’m a mom. My job is to make sure she has a good life.”
“And you don’t think the two can coexist? Her having a good life and you too?”
My eyes burn. “It’s too late for me.”
He shrinks the distance between us and we’re standing so close now.
The scent of his woody and smoky cologne is strong and goes straight to my head.
A whoosh of dizziness hits me, but I don’t tear my gaze from his.
He lifts his hand and it trembles slightly before he sets it against my cheek.
“I can give both her and you a good life, Rosie.”
“Don’t do this now,” I plead, tears breaking free from my eyes.
He grazes the side of my face, the roughness of his calloused hand sending a quivering rush between my thighs. “If not now, when?”
“Seven years ago,” I blurt.
His head rears back while his eyes dance over my face with indignation.
I force down whatever sensation has been building inside of me. “Why didn’t you fight for us then?”
Beck swallows, and I watch the lump bob. “First of all, I wasn’t aware there was an us. And second, I’ve already apologized for not coming after you.” He moves his hand up to my hair and brushes a strand behind my ear. “I’m here now. And you’re here.”
My phone chimes, startling us both.
“I will be back in a few days,” I repeat, withdrawing until my back hits the edge of the sink and putting some much-needed distance between us. He lets me go even though it looks like it’s the very last thing he wants to do. My phone rests on the counter, and I stretch to glance at the screen.
West.
“Fine. If this is what you want.” He exhales a long breath as he wrings out his hands. “I’ll see ya in a week, I guess.” Beck spins around and stalks down the hall toward the back door.
I follow behind him, gripping my phone and waiting for him to leave before I answer. Explaining a growly Beck in the background to West was not how I envisioned tonight going.
He leaves without a goodbye or good night.
Just when I think we’ve made some kind of progress, we end up taking two steps backward again.
But while my heart longs for a man I loved long ago and possibly yearns for this new man I’m just getting to know, my brain is always on Charlie.
She will always come first. My heart must take a backseat.
I once again put on a brave face, inject strength into my tone, and answer the phone. “Hey, West,” I say, but all I want to do is run out that door and chase after the man who will always hold my heart.