41. Elouise
Elouise
The phone only rings once before Maddie picks up my call.
“Aren’t you supposed to be at that barbeque thing right now?” She asks, with eyebrows that I’m sure are raised.
I groan, “We’re about to leave.”
“Okay…” she lets the word hang.
We’ve talked about this stupid Stoleman-Hall family get together about a dozen times since the RV incident last weekend, so it’s fair that she’s wondering what the problem is now.
“I can’t figure out what to wear,” I admit.
Maddie makes a humming sound, “Yeah, I get that. Are you currently dressed?”
“Yes.”
“Give me the rundown.”
Maddie dates even less than I do, but like any woman, she understands the struggle of finding the perfect outfit.
I stare at my reflection in the full-length mirror on the back of my closet door. “I’m wearing that black wrap dress you like, but I feel like it’s too fancy.”
“Oooo yes, keep that on. It makes your tits look great!”
“Maddie! Our parents are going to be there! I’m not going for sexy. ”
I can almost hear her rolling her eyes. “Whatever, don’t be a prude.”
I snort, “Pot. Kettle.”
She ignores my dig, “It’s kinda cold so you could wear that light blue jean jacket you have and your yellow flats. Then you’ll look like a perfect Spring Virgin.”
A laugh bursts out of me, shaking loose the feeling of dread that’s been sitting on my shoulders all morning. “Thank you, I needed that.”
“You’re welcome! Now go get in the car with your parents and brother and drive over to your boyfriend’s parent’s house.” She starts laughing so I grumble a goodbye and hang up the phone.
Resigned to my fate, I take Maddie’s advice, finish dressing, and hurry out of the house.
Everyone is already waiting in my brother’s flashy SUV.
I tried so hard to get him to stay home for this.
He’s been driving back and forth from his place to visit with Mom and Dad, so I thought I could convince him to take a day off.
But that didn’t work. And no matter what he says about wanting to see Mr. and Mrs. Stoleman, I know he just wants another chance to grill Beckett.
“You look wonderful,” Mom clasps her hands together as I get into the backseat next to her.
“Thanks, Mom,” I sigh.
Thankfully Dad and James are already in the middle of a conversation, one they continue as we drive over to the Stoleman’s.
It’s not far, as the crow flies, but Darling Lake the town was built along the shoreline of Darling Lake the lake, so there’s no quick routes around the sprawling body of water.
But on the plus side, the sun is shining and it’s a pretty drive.
In any normal situation I wouldn’t be meeting a guy’s family after one date. But this isn’t a normal situation. And if I’m being honest with myself, my feelings towards Beckett aren’t normal either.
I’ll acknowledge that I was mildly obsessed with the boy growing up, and I was shocked by the man when he walked into my campsite a couple weeks ago.
But this knotted feeling in my chest isn’t simple infatuation.
It’s more than a childhood crush. I know what that feels like.
It’s fun and present but hollow. Because I was pining over the idea of him.
But this new feeling… it’s so much more consuming than I know what to do with.
Because these are real feelings for the real Beckett.
Which is probably why today feels like such a big deal. Like I’m getting a second-chance introduction to his family, where they can see me as something other than James’s little sister.
My mom’s hand lands on my knee, and she gives me a squeeze, but thankfully she doesn’t try to fill my head with platitudes.
When we pull up to the white one-story home it’s exactly how I remember. White painted siding, dark blue shutters, and a neat iron fence surrounding the yard.
James parks in front of the house, and I make sure I’m the first one on the sidewalk leading to their front door. I may feel overwhelmed, but I’ll be damned if I let my brother knock on the door.
My pulse is embarrassingly high when I tap my knuckles against the wood surface.
It’s been nearly a week since I’ve seen Beckett, and the stress of missing him is starting to show in my nerves.
He hadn’t planned on being in Chicago this whole time, but he said things kept popping up that he had to take care of.
I’d say I understand, but I still don’t really know what he was doing down there. Something for work, I think.
We talked a few times, texted most days, but it was all brief. Too quick. And I need more. I need more Beckett.
My eyes nearly close, thinking of all the things I want to do to the man, when the door in front of me swings open.
The scent memory of this home hits me like a wave, and I’m suddenly thrown back 15 years. The sensation is so extreme I have to fight the desire to turn and run.
I’d been expecting Beckett to answer the door, but it’s not him.
“Hello, Dear!” Mrs. Stoleman pulls me in for a quick hug before holding me at arm’s length, beaming at me, “It’s so nice to have the families together again! This is going to be so much fun!”
“Hi, Mrs. Stoleman,” it’s impossible to not smile back. “Thanks so much for having us.”
She brushes off my thanks and I step aside, letting her run through a similar greeting for the rest of my family before corralling us inside .
Mrs. Stoleman tells us that her husband is out back by the grill, then she and my mom start chattering away.
I don’t know how I was expecting Mrs. Stoleman to act, but I’m a little surprised she hasn’t made any comments about me dating Beckett.
I guess she’s taking it all just as calmly as my parents did.
We’re halfway to the living room when my mom pats her old friend on the back, “It’s so nice of you to have us over.”
Mrs. Stoleman smiles at her, “Of course! When we heard you were in town, we knew we had to do it.”
Mom nods then decides to ditch subtly, “I mean, it was a bit of a surprise, but I’m glad you’re just as excited about Beckett and Elouise dating as we are.”
Mrs. Stoleman stumbles as we step into the large living room, “Um, what?”
The look on her face is a mix of shock and horror. Like she just heard the most horrible news.
Wait… did she not know about me and Beckett?
What does she think this is all about? Why wouldn’t Beckett tell her? Does he think it’ll be funny to tell her together, in person?
Mrs. Stoleman has stopped walking, “But…”
In a confused daze I walk past the pair of mothers, into the open living room.
Movement across the room catches my attention, and I turn toward it, prepared to ask Beckett what the hell he was thinking, except it’s not him. It’s someone else.
The figure rises from the couch, unfolding her long limbs, straightening her already perfect clothes.
We stare at each other for a long moment, the buzzing in my ears distracting me from the memory that’s trying to break through my psyche. Because she looks… familiar.
Her blonde hair is curled into smooth waves, and the smile on her face is gentle, but there’s a hardness in her eyes that I recognize.
But from where?
“Who are you?” My mom’s tone is borderline rude, but I have the same question.
The woman looks at Beckett’s mom, but she’s still rooted in place near the hallway.
Straightening her already rigid shoulders, the blonde steps closer, holding out a hand for me.
Taking it out of reflex, we’re palm to palm when she introduces herself.
“Hi, I’m Kira. Beckett’s wife.”
Wife?
Her grip releases, and my hand slowly lowers back to my side.
Wife.
I take a trembling step back.
Wife!
Beckett’s married?
My mom curses and my dad murmurs something before rushing out the patio doors to the backyard.
Mrs. Stoleman finally finds her voice, “I don’t understand what’s going on!”
The woman… Beckett’s wife … doesn’t look so cocky anymore. But she’s still here. In Beckett’s parents’ house. A welcome guest. And then it hits me. Like a brick to the face, the pieces slam together.
Sitting in this very house. Wearing my red velvet dress. Having Beckett talk to 15-year-old me like he actually sees me. And then she comes in. Kira. The lap-sitting, attention stealing bitch.
“Where is he?!” my brother’s angry voice slices through the air.
Mrs. Stoleman sputters before replying, “He’s getting cake.”
Cake? He’s missing this disaster because he’s getting cake?
A laugh starts to build in my chest, but as it rises, it morphs into something much sadder and I clamp my lips together to hold it in.
Wife.
The hurt doesn’t take over in a single moment. It’s not just suddenly there. But there’s something about it that just feels inevitable. Like I’m standing at one end of a long illuminated hallway, watching as the lights click off, one at a time, until the darkness is right in front of me.
Mom says something to me, but I can’t listen. I need to get out of here before that last light clicks off. Before the shadows swallow me whole .
“Elouise, honey,” Mom reaches out for me.
I take a step back. “I need to go,” I whisper.
“But-” she starts to argue.
But I shake my head, “It’s a misunderstanding.”
It’s not. It’s so not. Whatever this is, it’s malice. It’s awful. And I can’t be here for one more second.
“Please stay.” I plead, knowing that’s the only way I’ll be able to quickly leave.
“Yes, this must be a misunderstanding,” Mrs. Stoleman repeats, grasping for straws.
A mixture of anger and empathy fills my mom’s features, but she nods, letting me pass.
It’s not that I think anyone will have a nice lunch after this, it’s just that I need to leave right fucking now . Because if I wait, Beckett might come back, and I can’t face him right now.
Not now.
Not ever.
Keeping my head down I hurry down the hall.
Footsteps follow me, and I know it’s my brother before he even speaks.
“Lou…” his soft tone kills me.
Keeping my eyes on his chest, I’m able to cling to my composure for another heartbeat. “I’m okay.”
“You want a ride outta here?” When I shake my head, he holds out his precious keys, “Wanna take the car?”
I shake my head again, shoving my feet into my shoes. I’ll walk. I don’t know where, but I know I need the space, the air, to keep me upright.
When he doesn’t move, I chance a glance up at him.
His jaw works before he shoves the keys back in his pocket, “He’s a fucking prick.”
I bite down hard on my lip and nod.
James only hesitates a moment before he holds the door open, letting me step through. And as soon as I hear the door close behind me, I run.