21. Tyler
TWENTY-ONE
TYLER
“Knock knock?”
I already knew Becca was coming back. Her headlamp bounced across the yard with her approach and I was afraid something was wrong with Ellie. But then I saw the screen of the baby monitor in her hand and figured all was well.
“Hey. Still in here,” I call.
Becca looks shy peering around the doorframe.
She extends a bottle of Gatorade from her hand, pointedly looking at my eyes and not my naked torso.
It’s fun to see her flustered like this.
She was clearly checking me out when she brought Ellie to say goodnight, but now that we’re alone, she’s trying to maintain decency.
Still, it padded my ego to know that if all else fails, I can take my shirt off and it’ll do something to her.
“You look . . . hot,” she says. “I figured you need some electrolytes.”
I swallow hard, bobbing my head both to agree and to make my throat work. I bend to empty my hands, then take the bottle from her. “Yeah, thanks. That’s really nice of you.”
“You know me,” she jokes. “Making sure I’m still in the running to be your wife.”
I twist to open the Gatorade bottle and laugh. “I can safely say that you are the top candidate.”
Her cheeks are pink when she giggles. “I’d better not let it get out that you’re on the hunt. There’ll be a line clear out Creek Road. They’ll throw a pageant in town.” She reads it like a newspaper headline. “Paint’s hottest single dad seeks wife.”
I roll my eyes and chuckle. “I don’t need a pageant to know you’re the only one I’d marry.”
Becca narrows her eyes at me. “Is this an ‘I’d only marry you if you were the last woman on Earth’ situation? Because ouch. I at least need to know I edged out a little of the competition.”
I almost bark out my rejection of that idea.
She’s the only one I’d want to marry. Period.
I know that in my gut, but saying it out loud is too intimidating.
Just last night I was telling her I’m not having sex with her, but it’s not for lack of desire.
I want to. Bad. I’m just a little gun shy after how much my last relationship ruined me.
“That’s not what’s happening here,” I assure her.
She clears her throat while I take a drink. “We didn’t really talk for a while. I was thinking maybe before we consider getting married we should . . . get to know each other again.”
My heartbeat is so insistent that it thrums in my ears. My voice feels like it’s too loud when I speak. “Yeah. Probably a good idea.”
I’m a little scared of what’s going to come out of this conversation.
I don’t know if I can handle any more revelations like we had last night.
I’m still processing it all. I believe Becca about what really happened between her and CJ.
Even though I tease her about being a good liar, I think she’s a whole lot more honest than CJ was.
That had its own effect on me, though. It’s hard for me to trust anyone, much less someone who would be as intimate as a partner.
“So,” Becca says, popping up to sit on a stack of floor board packages, “what’s been going on the last few years? What did I miss?”
I snort and she lifts a shoulder. “I mean, besides the obvious.”
“Besides the obvious,” I start, “not really much. You know CJ and I started renting that house when she got pregnant, but after she left . . . I didn’t really want to be there anymore, and El and I could make do above the shop without rent.”
“Yeah, I get that. I was still living with Mamaw and Dusty until Ronnie moved in. Got too crowded. Moved in with Stone. When that ended, I floated for a little while. Darcy came into my life as everything was blowing up, and she was there for me.”
Another misconception I had about Becca goes belly-up. I assumed she was out living it up. I knew from when she tried to talk to me after CJ left that probably wasn’t the case. It was a convenient lie to tell myself, but an injustice to Becca. She suffered too. She lost her best friend.
“Darcy seems like a really good friend,” I say. “And Jake’s great too.”
“I’m glad they’re around. But, yeah, I’ve just been trying to get this place going. Plenty of adventures to be had here.”
“I bet. What’s your favorite thing about farming?”
Becca smiles, and I’m struck by this side of her.
After hours Becca doesn’t wear makeup and looks really cute in sweats.
I know she’s tired, because she’s not as witty as usual.
Her guard is down, and there’s something cozy about it.
“Well, I love my girls—the chickens, that is. And of course it’s nice to grow things you can eat.
But I love the flowers most, I think. It takes a lot of planning, but it gives you a lot to get excited about.
Helps get through winter too, knowing what lies ahead in spring. ”
I realize I’m wearing a genuine smile when I see my reflection in the window. I like hearing Becca talk about what’s important to her. “I love that. You’ll have to show me which ones you like best.”
“Well, right now is probably my favorite time. I’ve got these marigolds,” she holds up her hands to show me the size, “about as big as dinnerplates. And there are still plenty of zinnias and cosmos showing off. In high summer, it’s just hot.
Now there’s more to appreciate. There’s not a color I don’t like. ”
“You say all these things like I know what all those flowers are,” I tease.
Her cheeks go so pink that she reaches up to touch them. “Oh, right. Sorry. Went a little into special interest mode there.”
“Don’t be embarrassed. I like hearing what matters to you.”
Becca’s eyes get a little sheen to them, the blue so bright it makes my stomach dip. “Really?”
I know my chest is red as hell right now because I’m being real with her, and being real is scary. But I’m not lying. “Really. I want a garden tour. I gotta see all these flowers. Hopefully soon, because I usually get home so close to dark.”
“Yeah. Sorry you have to work so much,” she says. “So, Ellie, the garage. How’s your mom?”
I sigh. “Fine. You know how she is. Always trying to get me and Dad to go to church. I fear she’s trying to find a mom for Ellie.”
Becca guffaws. “Did you tell her you only accept wife candidates with adequate collateral?”
I grimace. “Yeah, I don’t know if I’m going to tell them that part.”
She levels me with a look. “Your dad will believe you just randomly were able to hire someone else at the shop?”
“I think you underestimate how little he questions in life.”
“Fair. Alright, well, I have my nerd garden and my line dancing. What do you do for fun?”
My jaw clamps together. “Haven’t had much time for that kind of thing. Being a dad is pretty all-consuming.”
Becca nods, her next question quiet like that made her really sad. “What do you want to do?”
My lips curl up and I point at her. “Don’t laugh at me.”
She mimics zipping her lip.
“If I had the time, a rec league baseball team might be fun.”
She cocks her head back and waves her hand. “Oh. I thought you were going to say something weird like join a mime society. Wait till I tell Jake. He’s always trying to recruit people for his teams.”
My throat tightens, because it hasn’t hit me this hard yet.
My life might really be about to go through a massive change.
I’ve gotten so used to doing everything alone, to not asking for help, and now I might have things like free time?
“Yeah. Cool. That’d be fun. As long as it’s not too much time away from Ellie. ”
“I’m pretty sure there’re other dads on the team. Anyway, can I help you finish anything out here? We should both get to bed.”
I glance at the wall I put up tonight. “Nah. I was just getting cleaned up. I won’t keep you. But,” my words feel strained, “thanks.”
“Hydration is important,” she says, hopping down from her perch.
“No, um. I mean, yeah, thanks, but,” shit, being earnest with her is extremely scary, “for coming out to talk. It’s nice catching up with you.”
Becca’s grin is tired but effortless, as always. “Likewise.”
“Let’s make time for you to show me your flowers.”
Her face goes serious. “Is that code for something?”
I chuckle. “No, you pervert.”
She laughs. “And you’ll have to do a home run derby for me.” She lingers in the doorway, flipping on her headlamp. “Night, Ty.”
“Night, Reba.”
The house is dark except the few lights Becca leaves on for nighttime navigation. I’m worn out, but I can’t stop replaying everything that happened today.
Someone else put Ellie to bed.
That same someone else may soon be my wife.
My maybe soon-to-be wife came around just to shoot the shit? Even after I was a dick just twenty-four hours ago?
How is this even real?
I peek into Ellie’s room to find her spooning T-Bone. All is well there. I hesitate outside Becca’s door, where a sliver of light shines at the bottom. She might still be awake. My hand curls into a fist as I consider knocking, but I catch a whiff of myself and think better of it.
A shower will cure this confusion. It has to.
I spent years demonizing Becca, and for what?
She’s obviously not the boogieman I made her out to be.
She’s kinder than I deserve, and definitely out of my league in the looks department.
But despite it all, she keeps showing up.
She’s putting in the work. And I couldn’t even do her the courtesy of one kiss?
I spent years wanting her and not doing anything about it. First, it was because Dusty asked me to look after her. Then, it was because I dated her best friend.
Now, neither of those things are relevant. The thing holding me back today is fear. Stupid fear that I’ll get left again, or that I’ll get stuck in a cycle of caring for an adult and a child.
I can draw up any number of traumatizing memories to remind me why I shouldn’t get involved emotionally, but I’m tired of it. I’ve wasted too many years doing that.
Becca isn’t CJ, and it’s unfair of me to compare them. Part of me has always wanted Becca and it’s time to do something about it.
I’m still scared. Fucking terrified. But I owe it to Becca to do it anyway.
I owe it to myself too.
I open the shower curtain to see my reflection in the foggy mirror, giving myself a silent pep talk.
You’re going to go kiss Becca Martin.