Chapter 36
Beckett
Once Lacey left this morning, my anxious mind slowly faded, the memory of her hold on me and the way her voice calmed me down, something no one else has been able to do.
My parents used the water and rag method on me often. Mainly when they were upset that I had been gone for too long.
I felt safe at the Taylors’ and never wanted to go home.
Even if the only reason they were nice was because they felt bad for me, I still felt safe and loved.
Lacey is silent in the driver’s seat of her truck, the view of the lawyer’s office coming up on my right. “Carson’s already here.” Lacey sighs.
I noticed his truck, too, parked out front. She pulls in beside him; we both groan noticing he is still sitting in his driver’s seat.
“Come on, there is no avoiding this.” Lacey sighs, opening her door; Carson meeting us by the sidewalk.
“You couldn’t call and tell me about this? Marcus had to call me,” Carson snarls at his sister. He has one more time to raise his voice before my fist connects with his nose again. Yelling at her is not going to cut it with me.
Lacey ignores him, walks past where he stands, and into the lawyer’s office. Carson’s body tenses, stunned, looking at me, confused.
I raise my hands in surrender. “She did tell you to read your letter.”
“And I told you to leave her alone. Guess we both don’t listen.”
I try to ignore him, but he grabs my forearm when I walk past. “King, I don’t know why my mother did this, but so help me, I will find a way around it.”
“Let it go, Carson,” I warn.
“Not until you are gone.” He shoves his hand off mine before turning and walking inside the lawyer’s office, his boots loud as they connect with the ground.
* * *
Lacey
“Great! Now that we are all here, let’s get some signatures,” Marcus says from behind the conference table.
We are all four back in the same room where we received the news. Except this time, we all sit closer to Marcus at his end of the table, Beckett took the opportunity to sit next to me while my brother is left on his own on the opposite end.
“You each get your own copies for your records.” He passes out papers to each of us with pens attached.
“Sign your names on the lines with tabs. It’s self-explanatory. You are welcome to read over it as well.”
“There’s no way out of this?” Carson snarls.
“Afraid not, Carson. It was your mother's wishes.”
“How can we be so sure? For all we know you could be lying.”
I’ve had enough of him and his ignorance. “Carson Taylor, sign the damn paper!!”
“She does talk,” he snarls at me.
“I have never not loved you, Carson, but right now, you are disappointing me, and you are disappointing mom and dad.” Tears fall down my face, I sign my paper and pass it back to Marcus.
“Lace . . .,” Carson sighs.
Marcus tears off my paper and hands me back my copy. Beckett signs and passes his to Marcus. A moment later, his paper copy is in his hands.
“You two can go now,” Marcus finally says. “I want to talk to Carson for a minute.”
I look at Beckett, who nods and stands with me, both of us thanking Marcus and making our way out of the room and far away from my idiot of a brother.
* * *
Beckett
“You think your brother will ever come around?” I ask Lace when the truck turns onto the ranch’s driveway.
She sighs. “I don’t know.”
We fall silent again. I want to know what she is thinking.
“Beckett,” she whispers, “Why did you leave that voicemail for my daddy?”
I feel my heart rate rise, I knew she would ask eventually, but I still don’t know how to answer it.
“Your father was the only father figure I had.” I start. “Your mother was the only mother figure I had.”
“I can imagine with the way your parents were,” she states.
“I wouldn’t have half of the things I do now if it wasn’t for your family, but I always envied it not being real. I always figured they felt sorry for me and that is why they basically took me in the way they did.”
“Your father texted me at least once a day, and I ignored him. I assumed if I avoided it, he would eventually stop, and I would be left to go on about my life alone. Every text reminded me of the life I never had but wanted. But he never stopped. Everyday, he let me know he was there.”
I turn to look at her. “I was drunk the day I did it, and normally drinking makes my thoughts of not being wanted worse. It was all bad timing. I am not making excuses because I had no idea, and if I could change things, I would.”
The truck slowly pulls up at the front of the farmhouse, Lacey puts it in park, and nods.
“Dad was having a bad morning that day. He could hardly make it down the stairs and wanted to go out and check the fences out front. Mama and I both tried to tell him he should go back to bed and not overdo it.”
“He died doing what he loved.” I grab her hand.
She looks down at it, and back up at me. “Why does grief do this? Sneak up like this?”
“Because you experienced a love worth grieving. You knew of a love most people only dream of in a parent, and you had it with both of yours. How wonderful it is to have the privilege to miss such amazing people. How wonderful it is to have a love that dysregulates your entire nervous system because of the impact they made on you, in the best way.”
“Beckett?”
“Yes?”
But she doesn’t say anything with her words, instead, she leans over the console and presses her lips to mine.