Ch18_EAA_EBOOK
He had just wanted to talk about his father, but sitting in Beau’s bedroom made me feel naughty—like we were sneaking around under our parents’ noses.
Beau stood in front of me, his hands gripping the oak dresser behind him, and stared at the floor. Though I merely sat in his bed—on top of the covers, even—, a prickle of unease crawled through me.
My eyes wandered around the room to distract me from the silent intimacy.
His room was messier than I expected, with every bookshelf and flat surface filled with clutter from both high school and college.
The areas not taken up by old physiology textbooks or football memorabilia were full of dozens of framed photos.
Amongst the frames were pictures of his grandfather leaning on his platinum cane, his mom smiling and holding baby Beau at the beach, and even photo strips of him and Katie at a college formal.
Though I quickly averted my eyes from any images of Katie, they always found a man who looked just like Beau in the frames—blonde, always wearing a polo, and flashing perfect white teeth in every snapshot.
I recognized his father from the brief glimpses I saw of him at football games and school assemblies.
Everyone knew Beau’s dad worked a lot to be as rich as he was, so it was like an A-list celebrity had stepped on campus during the rare times he showed up.
Beau blew out a breath and kept his eyes on the floor. His knuckles rippled as he tightened his grip on the edge of the dresser.
“When you have three Beaus in one house,” he said, “everybody goes by a different name. Grandpa was, well, Grandpa or Big Daddy, depending on who was addressing him. Dad was Junior or…Dad, obviously. Mom and Grandma called me Beau most of the time since Dad and Grandpa were always out of the house working, but Dad…”
Beau looked up at the frames on his shelves. “Dad called me Buddy.”
I tracked his gaze to a photo of a six-year-old Beau holding up a freshly-caught fish, his father beaming behind him.
“He sent me to the best football camps every summer, but he was the first one to teach me how to throw a ball,” Beau said.
“It became obvious when I was in middle school that he wanted to give me an ‘out,’ an opportunity to be something other than just a Fontaine heir. Our dream was for me to be quarterback for the Crimson Knights, then go pro, then come back to the company when Dad was ready to retire.”
I never knew much about football other than what I could pick up between plays before chomping on my clarinet reed and playing the Elren High fight song.
Going to the state championship game senior year had been a big deal, and even though I had hated to admit it, Beau was the main reason the Oilers got that far.
He was big, strong, rich, and talented—even when we were teenagers. There wasn’t a single person in school who didn’t envy him.
Beau released his grip on the dresser, abandoning his anchor, and paced in front of the footboard. He raked back his hair as his lips twitched, silently practicing his next words.
“Dad said he’d be at the gulf during the semifinals game senior year,” he said quickly, as if he had to force it out. “He told me if we won, he’d be at the front row of the championship game. All his recruiter friends from the state colleges would be there too. We’d finally get to have our dream.”
I smiled. “I remember the semifinals game. You threw the football sixty yards for that final touchdown.” My eyes dropped to my hands on my belly, but I couldn’t banish my smile. “I had no idea how you’d done it—throwing a ball so far for someone to catch it just in time.”
Heat creeped across my cheeks. Was I really bragging on him?
The floorboards stopped creaking under his feet and I looked up. He had stopped pacing and looked back at me with a crooked smile.
“I had to win,” he responded.
He held his breath and started to pace again. “The team went out for a late-night dinner to celebrate after the game. When I got back to the house…”
He chewed on his lip. “I just remember hearing a horrible banging noise upstairs as soon as I walked into the kitchen. Then screaming. I sprinted up the stairs and…”
My stomach knotted as Beau clenched his jaw. His hand wrapped around the corner of the footboard and he held on for a few heartbeats.
“I found Mom,” he said as he looked at the floor. “She was in their room, whacking at the marital bed with an ax and screaming ‘He’s gone, he’s gone…’”
I glanced at the wall of pictures of Beau’s father. Beau wasn’t making sense. He said his father was still the CEO of Fontaine Energy. Beau’s parents divorcing would have been such a big scandal everyone across the state would have heard about it.
“Gone?” I asked. “What do you mean?”
Beau let go of the footboard and threw out his hands. “You tell me, Olivia. You love a good story. What does it mean when a rich man is gone?”
I bit my lip as my mind ran through every salacious documentary I ever watched, every thriller I ever read, and every juicy rumor about the Fontaines I had ever heard. I combined all the tales of broken families and the rot of wealth into three theories.
“Well,” I said quietly. “He could have had an affair…”
Beau’s eyebrows raised and a tight smile pulled on his lips. “Come on, you can do better than that.”
“He…he committed a horrible crime and fled to another country. Or—”
“Don’t be bashful now,” he said with a sad gleam across his eyes. “Just tell me what you think.”
Slowly, I looked up at the photo of Beau’s grandfather—the man who built and funded the Fontaine Family Center, whose name was on multiple buildings in town, and who supplied massive endowments to Lindsay University.
The man was a giant, and anyone following him would stumble in the craters of his footsteps.
“Or…he wanted an ‘out,’ too,” I said.
Beau nodded. “That’s similar to my theory.”
I furrowed my brows. “Wait…you don’t know?”
He shook his head. “Mom won’t tell me. I’ve begged and begged but…”
His hand curled into a fist and he lightly tapped the top of the footboard.
“When you run a family company, the family has to stay intact. Otherwise, cracks in the foundation send the entire house crumbling down. Regardless of what happened between my parents…they stayed married. Couldn’t risk filing for divorce and everyone in town speculating how the company’s assets would get split since my dad was the only known heir to the company at the time. ”
“I thought you had an aunt?”
“Aunt Liz is my mom’s sister,” Beau said. “Dad does have an older sister, but she took an oath of poverty and runs an elephant sanctuary. She’s not part of the business or the family estate.”
Another Fontaine who wanted out.
“I still looked for him, though,” Beau said. “I looked for him at the championship game. I kept turning my head to his usual seat in the bleachers, waiting to see him there like he promised.”
I rubbed my belly, cradling my babies in my arms. That’s why we lost the game. Back then, I had gleefully thought Beau’s luck had finally run out when the game-ending whistle blew. I relished in the sight of his head hanging in shame, finally humbled after all those years of him being the top dog.
Never would I have guessed that he had actually lost something much bigger than a football game.
Beau turned to the shelves. “And as much as I hate to admit it, even ten years later, I still look for him. I used to always turn my head when I saw a tall blonde man in the corner of my vision—even when I was at a club. Sometimes I think he’s backpacking across the world like I did after Katie and I broke up, and one day he’ll come back like I had to. ”
I chewed on my lower lip. “Has he ever talked to you?”
“Once,” Beau responded. “High school graduation day. Right before the ceremony, he sent me an email from his business address.”
Oh God, no wonder he had been such an ass when I walked across the stage. His dad disappeared and then sent a fucking email about it?
His throat bobbed as he swallowed. “He said, ‘Someday you’ll understand, Buddy.’ I thought maybe when I got to college I’d get it. Or after Katie and I got married. Even now, holding the company and family legacy on my back and my back alone…I still don’t understand why he left me.”
My throat went tight as he turned to face me. How many times had I stayed awake at night wondering the same thing? Why did my dad leave? Why wasn’t I enough to stay for?
How many times had I forced myself to prove that I was enough to stay for…but still never gave any man the chance to leave?
“And now that Annie and Brady are coming,” Beau said, “I never will understand why he left.”
I swallowed a lump in my throat that felt heavy as an anchor. Beau might have been rigid, secretive, and a bit of an ass sometimes, but he wasn’t going to be like either of our dads.
A tear escaped and I quickly wiped it away with the heel of my palm. “We’ve got some fucked up families, don’t we?”
Beau scoffed and shook his head. “You don’t even know half of it. Grandma had a pill problem. Great-grandpa Louis got into so much trouble that his parents had to bribe police departments in multiple states just to keep him out of prison. And Grandpa…”
He threw out his hand to his grandfather’s portrait.
“If I had followed through with that trial suing the hospital, everyone was going to find out Grandpa had dementia, diagnosed even before my dad left. If that information got out, the managers at headquarters would have questioned every one of his decisions. Dad could have even come back and challenged the changes in the will.”
Beau’s eyes widened and he cursed under his breath.
I shifted on the bed. “Listen, I used to be a witness for will updates at my old firm. You don’t have to explain to me how tragic it is.”
Beau let out a shallow laugh. “Tragic.”