Chapter 7
Izzy
I was over LA, over Beau, and way over the step-monster. This whole trip had been a mistake, and I was going home.
A wave of grief hit me at the thought of home. Because it wasn’t really home anymore. Hadn’t felt like home since she collapsed at work and had never come home again. It was just an empty shell now.
Kinda like me.
Maybe I could go to Alexis’ house again. Hang with her family. Pretend like everything was normal there because I sure as hell couldn’t do it here.
“Oomph. What the hell?” Beau’s sudden exclamation tore me from my morose thoughts.
And I winced. So much for a clean getaway.
“What the hell, Izzy? You’re leaving?” My…bio whatever stood over my bag and swung his pained eyes my way. “I thought, I mean…”
Groaning, I avoided his hurt stare as I scrubbed at my own aching eyes. I’d spent way too much time crying last night to let his sudden presence sway me. “I was going to text you.”
“Text me,” he repeated flatly.“ I don’t get it. I thought you wanted to spend some time together, get to know each other. I want you in my life, Izzy.”
“You have a really shitty way of showing it,” I burst out, unable to control myself.
“I haven’t seen you for more than five minutes since we got off your plane.
You’re always busy. And I get it—you have a life.
But so do I. And I’m going to get back to it because you don’t seem to give a shit that I’m here. ”
He sighed and shook his head before perching on the arm of a nearby sofa.
“I know I’ve disappointed you. I’ve disappointed myself.
But I really don’t want you to leave.” He tipped his head and stared unabashedly at me, his eyes soft and maybe full of regret?
“I’ve got a lot to make up to you, and I know this feels like lip service at this point, but I’m going to do better.
I will make you a priority and spend some time with you—every day. I promise.”
Against my will, I felt my resolve weakening at the gentle expression in his eyes combined with his words. To have a mountain man like him look at me like that…felt impactful. Like he was serious.
Like I meant something to him.
“I can’t do another night like last night.” I swallowed and looked away from him. I couldn’t—wouldn’t—bad mouth his wife to him. I knew that wouldn’t win me any points. “I don’t fit in here. And I really don’t care about all those fake people. I’m here to spend time with you—no one else.”
I ached to tell him what I really thought about the step-monster, the horrible words she’d said…
but I couldn’t. I’d been in this position so many times in the past—with teachers, coaches, the very people who were supposed to support me.
Most refused to hear the truth, chalked it up to my sensitive feelings, and didn’t want to believe people could be so ugly about superficial things.
But I knew. I’d lived it.
And besides, I didn’t really trust him yet.
“Acknowledged.” Beau nodded. “I’ve moved some stuff around, and the guys will be coming here every day for practice.
I’d love if you hung out with us some. But really, we made the change so I’ll have more time with you and less time sitting in traffic.
I swear I’m making you a priority, Izzy.
I’m fucking thrilled to have you in my life, and I’m going to work like hell until you feel the same way about me. ”
I wanted to believe his words…but so far his actions hadn’t measured up. “I’ll…” I sighed. “I’ll stay. I’ll give you another chance. But this is the last one.”
He nodded firmly. “Gotchu.”
“And I was serious about the Hollywood party thing.” I shook my head. “I didn’t like it. It wasn’t fun. I just want to hang out with you. I want to get to know my father. I don’t care about all the pomp and fame and fake bullshit.”
For the first time this morning, he sent me a genuine grin. “Same, kiddo. I hate that shit too.”
I smiled back at him. “Do you have time for breakfast? I can make some eggs or something?”
“No.”
My heart fell, but then he continued.
“I’m going to make you breakfast. That’s a dad thing to do, right?”
I shrugged. I’d never had one, so what did I know?
He clapped and stood up. “What do you like? Eggs? Pancakes? Hashbrowns? I can probably find some steak.”
“Oh wow. How about we start simple? Eggs, bacon, and toast?”
“Deal.” Beau walked toward me then paused awkwardly like he wanted to reach out toward me but didn’t know how. “Uh, yeah. Let’s go.”
I smiled then walked with him to the kitchen. After climbing onto a barstool at the center massive island, I watched as he paced around the kitchen. He moved with grace despite his huge body. His curly hair bounced as he ducked down to look in the bottom cabinets for a pan.
“How do you like your eggs?” he asked as he set the pan on the fancy stovetop.
“However you want to cook them.” I shrugged then folded my arms on the marble countertop.
Honestly, I was afraid to touch anything.
It was all so shiny and expensive looking from the sleek black cabinets to the white marble countertops and continuous backsplash to the glossy light oak floors.
It was so far from my mom’s eighties kitchen with the orange oak cabinets and tile countertops I felt completely out of place here.
The past few days I’d just eaten whatever Carmen made for me and felt grateful I didn’t have to fend for myself.
“That’s not an answer,” Beau grumbled. He set bacon out on the countertop and grabbed a spatula before turning to me with a frown. “How am I supposed to get to know you if you’re not going to tell me anything? Egg preference isn’t a huge secret, is it?”
“I just don’t want to put you out. Scrambled is okay.”
“A people pleaser.” He grunted before pointing at me with the spatula. “You definitely don’t get that from your mother. Now seriously, how do you like your eggs? Welcome to Chez Benoit. I’m Beau and will be your waiter and cook this morning. What can I get you?”
I giggled. I couldn’t help it. It was so ridiculous to see my big, tough…bio dad be so silly. “Over medium and crispy bacon please.”
“That’s more like it. And same. I hate flaccid bacon.” His top lip curled in disgust, and I giggled some more. “What about toast? What kind of bread do you like?”
“Do you have sourdough?”
He tipped his head. “I’ll see what we have, but I’ll let Carmen know to buy some.”
“I’m not really a fan of the twigs and nuts kinda bread. But it’ll do in a pinch.”
“Noted. We don’t eat a lot of bread here, but maybe Carmen has a stash somewhere.” He ducked into the butler’s pantry, and I heard some rustling before he cried, “Eureka! I knew she had some hidden in here.”
A beat later, he came back into the kitchen holding a bag of bread aloft.
I grinned back at him, feeling light-hearted at his playfulness.
Twenty minutes later we were crunching on bacon and sopping up runny egg yolk with sourdough toast.
“So, can I ask what’s your deal?” Beau asked out of the blue—and while I had a mouthful of toast.
Once I swallowed, I coughed lightly and asked, “What do you mean by deal?”
“Are you seeing someone? Is there a man in your life I should be standing over threateningly? Or woman, whatever. I’m not a bigot. But some punk kid who doesn’t deserve you?”
I laughed uncomfortably. “Nope. No someone in my life currently.”
“Nothing wrong with that.” Beau tipped his head. “I just realized I don’t even know what you do. What’s your degree in? Do you have a job currently?”
“I followed in Mom’s footsteps. I have a BS in Atmospheric Science from the University of Colorado Boulder, and I’m currently getting my masters at the University of Washington back home in Seattle.
So no full-time job right now, but I was hoping to get my foot in the door at NOAA since Mom worked there for so long… ”
That achingly familiar wave hit me again and had me pushing my plate away.
Tears sheened my eyes, and I swallowed hard.
I didn’t know if I could ever go back really.
School and my future career were intrinsically tied to my mom…
and so many memories of her. Her in the lab, working away on a computer.
Her holding her own against her coworkers in her office.
Her guest speaking for my school. It was so painful I couldn’t breathe for a minute.
“You definitely got your brains from her.” Beau laughed suddenly.
“I barely graduated high school. Really I only did because I was so afraid of my mom. That woman would kick my ass up and down the hall when she’d found out I’d skipped class because I was a stupid hungover kid. I deserved it really.”
I smiled despite the child abuse of it all. His story helped ground me. Took away the pain of my loss for a minute, and I appreciated it.
“Is she still with you?” I asked softly, almost afraid to know the answer. Either option was frightening really.
“Yup.” Beau nodded. “I, uh, haven’t exactly told her about you just yet. Kinda working up the nerve, honestly. She’s…intimidating to say the least. I know this will be a disappointment for her, so I’m not exactly looking forward to that conversation.”
“Oh.” I dragged my fork through my remaining egg yolk and stared down at the carnage.
“Whoa! I didn’t mean it like that. She’s going to love you. She’s going to be disappointed in me. That we missed out on so much of your life. But I bet the second I tell her, she’ll be on a plane to come meet you.”
That sounded…nice. And definitely intimidating. “I’m okay if you want to put it off for a little longer. So me and you can spend some time together first.”
“Thanks, kiddo. I appreciate it.”
I smiled down at my plate and dipped my toast into the yolk. There was this fragile harmony between us, and I was afraid of stepping wrong and ruining it.
But apparently the step-monster didn’t have similar inhibitions.
Or the ability to read a room.
“Beau! I’ve been yelling for you for forever. What the hell?” Phoebe suddenly screeched from the other side of the kitchen.
We both jolted at her shrilled, annoyed cry.
Beau tossed me a worried glance then stood up from his barstool. “Phoebe, what’s going on?”
“That’s what I want to know.” She flounced into the room wearing a thin satin robe lined in billowy feathers, her hair in rollers (I did not know people still used those!) and gold under-eye masks adorning her face.
It was a lot. And impossible to look away from.
She waved her cell phone in his face. “You haven’t been answering your phone, and someone keeps buzzing the gate to get in. Clearly, I’m not going to let them in. Who’s here? What the hell is going on?”
She turned her accusing stare on me like I was the source of all the problems in her life.
“Shit. Sorry, Beebee.” Beau slapped at his jean’s pockets, looking and failing to find his cell phone. “I’ll let him in.”
“Who. Is. Here.” The waves of rage rolling off her were almost visible.
I averted my gaze, afraid of getting hit in the crossfire.
But apparently Beau had no such fear. “The guys are coming over for practice.”
“And you didn’t think to let me know? At least warn me? I can’t see them like this!” She ended in a shriek.
“What does that matter? They’re not here to see you.”
“Are you serious? I’m about up to here—” She stabbed a hand across her throat. “With your bullshit. From your surprise daughter to your fucking surprise band practices, it’s so fucking ridiculous. I’m over it.”
“Whoa, don’t you dare say a fucking word about Izzy. She doesn’t deserve an ounce of your anger. If you’re mad at me, aim it at me. Leave her out of it.”
At this point, I carefully stood up and edged toward the door to the living room. They clearly needed some time alone.
“I can’t even talk to you without her barging in!” Phoebe shrieked, pointing at me.
I froze mid-shuffle, so close and yet so far from the door.
“Are you still drunk from last night?” Beau laughed incredulously. “She was in here with me before you even came in. I’ll buzz the guys in at the gate, and you can go back to whatever you were doing before. What the hell is the issue here?”
Phoebe gave a strangled cry then fled the room in a flurry of tears, curlers, and feathers.
Beau sent me a look then shook his head and followed her.
I couldn’t quite make out what they were saying but clearly the argument continued.
Sighing, I headed for the living room but stopped short when the front door ripped open.
“Hello?” a masculine voice called before a familiar face peeked into the room.
I turned and stopped short. “You.”