Chapter 22
Twenty-Two
Beck has been avoiding me all week. I’ve invited her to my place to watch a movie—she was having dinner with Maggie.
I asked if she wanted to go out for Thai—she was working late.
I suggested we play Scrabble—something she likes to do with Carson—and she said she had plans with her girlfriends.
I’ve even tried to catch her at the bakery before work with no luck.
I don’t know if she’s making up excuses or if she’s truly busy, but I fucking miss her.
At least she’s responding to my text messages, or I would be going insane right now.
True to her nature, whenever I try to talk to her about anything serious, like what’s going on with Braden, she deflects with humour and sarcasm.
For approximately thirty-three seconds, I considered pulling Jenna’s clinic notes to see if there is anything there to give me insight on how I can best support her.
I shut down that line of thinking quickly because that’s a gross abuse of power and unethical, and I would likely lose a job I love.
Also, she is not my client; she’s my…friend and potentially something more.
Now I’m getting ready to leave for a week to be a guest lecturer in the social work program at the University of Toronto.
I usually go once or twice a year. This year’s topic is the impact of media on children and youth.
I have booked time off. A hotel room has been reserved.
I even bought Leafs tickets for Vaughan and me.
It’s something I look forward to, but not now. I’m dreading going.
After all that bullshit with Braden last weekend, I have become increasingly worried about Beck. I consider myself a good judge of character, and he’s not a good man.
Mason tried to reassure me he hadn’t been in any trouble beyond a couple of drunk and disorderlies when he was younger, so there was nothing on record that would suggest he would cause her physical harm. I’m not convinced. It could just mean nobody ever caught him before.
When people don’t get what they want, they become desperate and unpredictable. He says he needs money, and she is cutting him off. What lengths would he to go in order to get what he wants?
I wonder how mad she would be if I asked Finn to come to Emerley to watch out for her while I’m gone. I know the answer. She would be fucking livid. So, I’m going to do the next best thing.
The Boys Group Chat
What’s everyone up to tonight?
Carson
Ryan? Is that you? You never message the chat
Riot
What’s going on?
Just wanted to see if you all wanted to come over
Logan
To your house…
Yes, my house
Dillon has been added to the chat
Riot
You have never invited us over. Ever.
It’s not a big deal
Logan
Okay, sounds good
Dillon has left the chat
Carson
I’m in
Dillon has been added to the chat
Riot
Same
Dillon
What the fuck is this?
Carson
Ryan wants us to come over
You in?
Dillon?
Dillon has left the chat
One hour later, two trucks pull up the driveway and park in front of the house.
I could hear Carson coming from down the road, his exhaust is so loud.
Opening the door, I greet Logan, who’s carrying a stack of pizzas, and Riot with a case of beer.
And Carson is carrying a charcuterie board.
Dillon’s trailing behind. What the hell?
“You didn’t have to bring anything.” Furrowing my forehead, I hold the door open, welcoming them inside.
“Carson said we did.” Riot raises his box a little higher. “Where’s your fridge?”
Gesturing vaguely towards the kitchen, I watch as he leads the way.
“He told us you wouldn’t have any actual food.” Logan shrugs both shoulders and follows Riot.
Checking out the board of assorted meat, cheese, and other assorted snacks Carson’s carrying, I hold my hands up. “Why?”
“What do you mean, why? You never, ever have friends over. Plus, the girls always have snacks at their book club. It seemed like the right thing to do.”
“You’re fucking weird, you know that?” Dillon scowls at his back and shakes his head. “Yeah, I’ve got nothing. He showed up at my house and said I had to come.”
“He does that.”
Standing beside him, we watch Carson rummage through the cupboards searching for plates and Riot put beer in the fridge. Logan is uncovering the charcuterie tray and opening the pizza boxes.
Crossing his arms, Dillon turns to me and says, “This isn’t really a book club, right?”
“Nope. I’m glad you could come, though. Make yourself at home and grab something to eat. There appears to be plenty.”
Riot passes everyone a beer before grabbing three slices of pizza and throwing them on a plate. “Nice place,” he says before taking a bite.
“It’s like a giant version of Hannah’s.” Logan wanders across the room, towards the wall of windows, and points at Hannah’s across the lake. “All the girls are there tonight.”
“Erin’s home for the weekend, so she volunteered to stay with Ben,” Riot shares.
Erin is Claire’s younger sister. She’s currently in her last year of university for nursing, but she comes home regularly to help with Ben.
“Is Meg there?” Carson asks as I watch him roll up a meat, cheese, pickle concoction and shove the entire thing in his mouth.
“Don’t go there, man. She’s a married woman,” Logan warns.
“How could I forget?” Carson mutters. “I’m simply asking if she is there or if her husband is actually home this weekend. Relax.”
We all know that Jeff is rarely around. Travelling, working, golfing—take your pick—there is always an excuse not to be home with his wife. The girls worry endlessly about her, but all we can do is support her until she is ready to talk about it.
“So, do you want to tell us what inspired this get-together?” Riot asks, leaning on the counter behind him.
“I’m not complaining, but we normally grab a drink at Bob’s. What’s up?” Logan asks as he raises his beer bottle to his lips.
“I’m just glad we aren’t standing outside in the cold, and my father isn’t here,” Dillon mutters before filling his plate with food and sitting down on a stool at the island.
“How is my good friend Harold?” Carson laughs, slapping him on the back. “I love that grumpy old man.”
“I can guarantee he does not feel the same way about you,” Dillon huffs, shoving him away. “How about you stop antagonizing him, fuckface?”
Ignoring them, Riot asks, “Is this about Beck?”
The room becomes completely silent, and all eyes are now on me. Logan lowers his pizza to his plate mid-bite and places it on the counter.
I spend all day, every day listening to people and helping them work through their feelings. I can’t say I want to have the same vulnerability with anyone else. But this isn’t about me. It’s about Beck.
“There was a small confrontation last Sunday morning in front of the bakery with Braden. I didn’t love how he was talking to her. Has he always been like that?”
“A fucking asshole? Yes, always,” Dillon grumbles as he ignores his phone chiming in his pocket. “Is he giving her a hard time?”
“Is she okay?” Riot asks before taking a long pull of his beer.
“She was pretty shaken up when I took her home. Now she’s shutting me out.”
“She seemed alright at work this week,” Logan shares. “She was crazy busy trying to catch up on appointments she had missed last Friday.”
“Maybe she was too tired to see you, Pretty Boy,” Carson singsongs Beck’s nickname for me.
“Can you act like an adult for five minutes?” I ask, throwing a piece of cheese at him. He catches it midair and pops it in his mouth.
“What did Braden say to her?” Riot asks, ignoring Carson, trying to get us back on track.
“He was shooting his mouth off about how she always goes back to him and about money. She told him it had been over for a while and she was cutting him off completely financially, including the truck. That was a surprise. I had no idea she was still paying for it.” Running my hand over my jaw, I continue.
“He didn’t take the news well and said some cruel things.
I’m grateful Mason showed up before it escalated. ”
“So where do we come in?” Dillon asks. “Want us to beat the shit out of him? I’ve always wanted to punch that fucker in the face, so you can count me in.”
“We know Logan can throw a punch,” Carson chirps, as he raises his hands to his face and mimics boxing.
“Jackson was asking for it,” Logan grunts, picking up his beer and raising it to his lips.
We had just finished dessert on Thanksgiving when Logan got into a fistfight with his brother in his front yard. Mason showed up in time for that as well.
“I’m sorry I missed it,” Dillon says, leaning both forearms on the counter.
“No, I don’t think it will come to that. Did you know that he still talks to her parents?”
“What the fuck, really? She barely talks to them,” Logan huffs out his disbelief.
“I assumed so, but she doesn’t share much about them either. At least with me.”
“Yeah, Claire told me she hasn’t talked to them much since she and Braden split,” Riot shares. “They took his side.”
“So, here’s the thing. I have to go out of town for the week for a teaching thing I can’t cancel. I hate leaving her, and I need to know that there are people watching out for her.”
“We have always looked out for her. That’s not going to change,” Riot says, furrowing his eyebrows as he removes the elastic from his hair.
“I know,” I say quickly, not wanting them to think I doubted them. “Something in my gut is telling me this is going to get worse before it gets better.”
“Just a hunch?” Carson asks curiously.
“Something like that.”
“Well, I may have something that will ease your mind a bit,” Logan says.
“What’s that?” I ask, leaning my hip on the counter.
“A couple of things. I work with her every day. Braden knows not to show his face there anymore, and April refuses to put his calls through.”
“Okay. That’s good.” I’m grateful her co-workers have her back.
“I also asked her to move into the yellow house.”
“You did what?” My jaw drops in surprise.
“Ya, Hannah and I decided we want to live together at the cabin. The house will be empty, so I offered it to her earlier this week. After some thought, she agreed. She told us today.”
“Really?” I’m having a difficult time imagining her anywhere but in her tiny home filled with colour and whimsy.
“I’m only taking my personal stuff with me, so it will have everything she needs.”
“That’s great, man.” Riot grins at his best friend. “I’m happy for you both.”
“I can’t wait to be settled in one place with her. It has been a long time coming.” Turning back to me, he says, “Hannah has been encouraging Beck to move into Maggie’s house for at least the winter, but she keeps insisting she will be fine.”
“When we renovated the Airstream, we made sure it could handle cold weather. She would be warm enough living there, but I’m glad she doesn’t have to,” Riot shares.
“When is she moving in?” I ask. I must admit that I’m disappointed that she didn’t tell me about Logan’s offer, but why would she?
I’ve never given her any clear sign that I want anything more than friendship.
Telling her how I feel will be the first thing I do when I get back from Toronto. There’s something going on between us.
“I’m sure we can make it happen by next weekend,” he says with confidence.
“In the meantime, we can check in on her in the evenings,” Riot reassures me.
“Maybe I’ll ask her if she wants to have a sleepover at my place while you are away,” Carson jokes, winking at me.
“If you don’t shut up, I will end up punching you in the face.” Logan shakes his head.
“I’ll hold him for you,” Dillon mutters as his phone chimes again.
“He knows I’m kidding,” Carson says. “Just like I know he’s been feeling a little possessive of her lately.”
“You really like her, huh?” Riot asks.
“I do,” I confess to my friends. “We haven’t talked about it yet, but I would like to see if we can explore what’s going on between us.”
“She deserves a good man in her life,” Logan says. “Someone who’s going to treat her well and not take advantage of her kindness.”
“Agreed.”
“Are you going to check that?” Riot asks Dillon when his phone chimes again.
“Do I have to?” he mumbles as he removes his phone from the front pocket of his jeans. “For fuck’s sake, I need to go.” He stands and walks towards the entrance. “Let me know when we are getting together for our next book club, yeah?”
“Do you want to host?” Carson asks, chuckling.
“With Harold? Not too fucking likely,” he calls back.
After we hear the door shut firmly behind him, Carson turns to me and says, “In all seriousness…”
“Wait. You know how to be serious? Who knew?” Riot mutters, rubbing his hand over the scruff along his jaw.
“I can be serious; it’s just fun to piss Dillon off.”
Turning back to me, he says, “Go to Toronto and have a good week. We have everything under control here. Nothing will happen to your girl.”
He has said it before, and I like the sound of it. My girl. Now, I need to make it true.