31. Beckett
Beckett
Elouise smiles at me from across the cafeteria and – for the hundredth time – I remind myself that we’re in public, surrounded by children and I can’t do a goddamn thing about my desire to claim her completely.
Our talk in the classroom went better than I’d hoped. But I should’ve known better. Elouise is a smart, reasonable person and everything I told her was the truth.
I regret causing her pain, but I don’t regret putting our feelings out in the open.
I like her. She likes me. And I’m getting too old to dick around anymore.
I don’t know that I want forever. I’m not entirely sure I believe that’s a real thing anymore.
But whatever this ends up being, I’m not gonna let her slip through my fingers before it even starts.
“Uncle Beckett!” Clint’s unnecessarily loud shout is accompanied with a tug on my shirt.
“Christ, kid, I’m right here,” I tap the side of my head with my palm, like I’m trying to knock my hearing back in place.
“You’re not supposed to say that,” he lifts his eyebrows and looks so much like his mother I almost shudder.
Same light brown hair, same light brown eyes, same judgmental stance. It’s uncanny.
“Yeah, yeah, you can tell on me later.”
“Can we go?” he yanks on my shirt again and I bat his hand away .
“Um,” I look around at all the lunch tables still covered with posterboards, and experiments. All the kids standing next to their displays. “I don’t think so.”
“Why not. I’m bored,” His sigh is soul deep.
Usually I’d agree with him, but watching Elouise walk through the aisles as she listens to the kids describe their projects has been immensely entertaining.
Before we entered the room, she disentangled her arm from mine.
I felt the loss of her warmth immediately, but I didn’t say anything.
This is her place of work, so I understand wanting to stay professional.
Even if professional in this case includes lackluster Styrofoam volcanos and petri dishes showing the amount of bacteria on the drinking fountain spout.
But Elouise didn’t ditch me. She walked with me right to Clint’s table, introducing herself as Miss Hall, one of the 4 th grade teachers.
Clint was instantly enamored with her. Can’t really blame him since I feel the same way, but it did irk me a little that he spent the first five minutes telling her about his dumb meal worms without sparing me a single glance. I’m his uncle. I’m the one he should want to impress.
When she gracefully excused herself to move to the next table, Clint turned to me and told me he wanted her as his teacher next year.
I nodded, understanding. I’d want her as a teacher too, and not just because she’s hot.
She’s patient, the exact sort of thing I needed when I was Clint’s age, really the sort of thing every kid needs.
The small human at my side drops down into the plastic seat attached to the table, melting into the surface with a dramatic groan.
“What time is this supposed to go til?” I ask him.
“I dunno. Forever,” he moans.
I let him see my eye roll, “Keep an eye on your worms. I’ll go find out when we can leave.”
Clint’s limp body perks up, “Kay!”
Picking my way through the clusters of parents, I aim myself towards Elouise. She’s not here as an official chaperone, but she’ll know what time this is supposed to wrap up.
When I turn to head down the next aisle of tables, my eyes are drawn to a man stepping out of the cafeteria and into the hallway. His dark buzzed hair, triggering a memory.
Son of a bitch.
Changing my trajectory, I stride towards the doorway.
This dickhead is getting a piece of my mind.
Stepping into the hallway, I look both ways but I don’t see him.
Fuck.
I was only seconds behind him. He couldn’t have gotten far.
I step further into the hallway, looking out the front doors and seeing nothing, I turn back and notice the door to the boys’ bathroom swinging closed.
Gotcha.
A few strides later, I’m pushing into the bathroom.
It’s small. Just two stalls, both doors open, two urinals and two sinks.
Adam has his back to me, hunched over the shorter-than-usual urinal, relieving himself.
There’s no lock on the door, but that’s okay. I only need a minute.
He hasn’t heard me enter, so I take a few quiet steps closer and wait for him to finish. I don’t want to startle a man while he’s still peeing and end up with piss on my shoes.
Finally done, he straightens back to his full height, which is still well below mine, and zips himself up.
I’m hardly surprised when the prick doesn’t press the lever to flush.
Adam turns around and lets out what can only be described as a shriek when he spots me. But the memory of him crawling into Elouise’s tent prevents me from feeling any humor.
His unwashed hands fly up to his chest, “Holy shit, man, you startled me! Didn’t hear you come in.”
Keeping my eyes on him, I take one step closer, so he has to tip his head back a little to hold eye contact.
“Your kid out there?” I ask, staring into his eyes.
My question clearly isn’t what he was expecting, and he takes a step back, “Y-yeah.” He takes another step back. “Why would you ask something like that? ”
With one step, I close the distance between us again, “Because no kid should see someone beat the shit out of their dad.”
Adam’s eyes widen and he holds his hands up in a placating gesture, “Dude, chill.”
“Chill?” I let my aggression seep into my tone, “you should be fucking thanking me. Because this is your one warning.”
His voice goes up an octave, “What’d I do?”
At my expression, he takes another step back, bumping the back of his knees against the bowl of the urinal, throwing him off balance. His arms flail but he has nowhere to go. His knees bend as he tips back, pressing his ass against the vertical wall of the dirty urinal.
Moving forward for the last time, I don’t stop until the toes of my shoes are pressed against his. Pinning him in place.
“Stay away from Elouise Hall. Don’t talk to her.
Don’t fucking look at her. Don’t so much as think about her.
” I squeeze my fists tighter, fighting the urge to punch him.
“You didn’t accidently crawl into her tent that night.
And if you make me think too hard about what your intentions might’ve been, I’m going to rip your spine out through your mouth.
So don’t push me.” His breathing has picked up, and his eyes are wide.
“If I hear you’re harassing her, if I hear you so much as breathe on her, I will end you.
And I will hear about it, because she’s mine. You hear me? Elouise is mine.”
His nod is frantic.
I lean in a little closer. “And if you try that shit with any other woman, I’ll find out and sink you to the bottom of Darling Lake. Because I’m back. And just like Elouise, this town is mine.”
Adam’s mouth flops open and closed, but no sound comes out.
“Glad we understand each other,” I show my teeth and dart my hand out. He flinches away from me, but I don’t hit him. I depress the lever to flush the urinal, causing the water to stream down across his back.
Satisfied, I head for the door. “And wash your fucking hands.”