Chapter 32
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We leave earlier than I planned.
Originally, I would have stayed through the end of the holiday break, but Beck has things he needs to do back on campus, and I don’t have my car here so it makes the most sense for me to head back with him. And truthfully, I’m greedy for more time alone with him.
I love my family. I love the way Davis laughed and talked with Beck like they were friends, and the way my mom pulled Beck into her arms and treated him like he’s always been one of hers. I really, really love watching Beck folded into our chaos.
He was stiff at first, too polite and careful with his words, like he was afraid to say the wrong thing.
He was surprised by every hug and show of affection.
He held back his laughter and excitement.
But eventually, he relaxed into it and became part of the family.
He didn’t even mind the extra big feelings we all had this year.
On Christmas night, I made an off-handed joke about our poor people Christmas probably being underwhelming for him, and he’d looked at me so wide-eyed I thought he might be offended.
“Are you kidding me? I think this might be the best Christmas I’ve ever had. Your family is amazing, and the way you all just shared it with me…” He swallowed hard. “It means more than anything my father’s money has ever bought me.”
It made me sad for the lonely life I realize he’s had. It also made me want to jump his bones. Unfortunately for us, my home is small and has thin walls, so those moments were few and far between.
So when Beck said he had to hit the road, I was sad to leave my mom and Davis, but I felt like I should go with him. I’m pretty fucking stoked to have a few uninterrupted days with my boyfriend.
Still getting used to that word.
I didn’t realize one of the things he had to do was visit Ms. Delia. I’m worried that I overstepped by inviting myself on his trip home, but he seems genuinely excited for me to meet her.
I’m more nervous than I’ve ever been to meet anyone. This is the woman who raised him. The one person he felt actually loved him in the whole world. She matters a hell of a lot more than the man who gave him his name or his sharp jawline.
The facility is amazing. It looks like a fancy hotel from the outside, with sprawling lawns and walking trails, even a tennis court and indoor pool. There are so many amenities, it seems more like a spa than a care facility.
“I didn’t know they made care homes this fancy.”
Beck laughs and takes my hand. “It’s obscenely expensive,” he says. “But it’s worth it. Ms. Delia deserves the world, and even my dad recognizes that fact.”
“Your dad pays for this?”
“When her mental faculties started showing clear signs of decline, he had her retirement benefits consolidated to provide her with the best care possible. She moved from the UK when she was young and doesn’t have any family left.”
“Other than you,” I say. He squeezes my hand and smiles.
A gorgeous woman wearing a collared shirt with the care facility logo embroidered on the chest stands from a reception desk and lights up when she sees Beck.
“Mr. Beckett,” she greets happily. “Ms. Delia said she had a feeling you’d be stopping by today. She said she felt you coming.”
“She always does,” he says, smiling. “How’s she doing?”
“She’s been doing well. Having a good day today.”
Beck perks up. “Lucid?”
She holds up her hand in a so-so motion. “Not entirely, but she’s happy and taking care of her plants and knows everyone’s names.”
“Definitely a good day,” Beck says, then smiles down at our hands like he didn’t realize he was still holding mine. He lifts them and kisses my knuckles.
“Jenny, this is Brody.”
“So nice to meet you. Ms. Delia has been looking forward to meeting you for some time now.”
My eyes widen, and I look up at Beck in surprise. “Ms. Delia knows about me?”
“Of course she does. Ms. Delia knows everything,” he says.
We follow Jenny to a set of elevators and up several floors. Then she leads us to what looks like a luxury apartment and knocks on the door.
“Come in, dear,” sing-songs an old woman.
We step into a spacious open-floor plan space with bright yellow walls and white wainscoting. There are plants everywhere, on stands and hanging from shelves and hooks. The space is happy and inviting.
“Hi Ms. Delia,” Beck says softly, almost timidly.
Her head snaps up. For a second her eyes are cloudy, unfocused. Then they land on him, and it’s like the clouds part.
“Linc,” she breathes, and I swear I’ve never seen a brighter smile on Beck. It’s relieved and full of so much joy and love.
Oof. That does something to me.
He crosses the room and leans in, kissing her cheek and letting her cup his face like she’s making sure he’s real, patting his cheeks, pressing a kiss to his forehead. He gets to one knee in front of her so he’s not towering over her so much.
“I knew you were coming.”
“I’m sorry I missed Christmas,” he says. “I ended up somewhere unexpected.”
Ms. Delia cackles. “So did I, honey, so did I.”
Beck shakes his head and laughs with her.
“Are you going to introduce your young man or just leave him standing over there in the corner? Come on in here, child. I’m a crazy old bat, but I don’t bite.” She pauses and purses her lips. “At least I don’t think I do.” She throws back her head and cackles again.
“Told you she was in a good mood,” Jenny says, returning to the room with a spray bottle. “Here you go, Ms. Delia. You call me if you need anything,” she says, and leaves the apartment.
Ms. Delia turns directly to me and smiles brightly, holding out her hand to take. I step forward and take her hand.
“Ms. Delia,” Beck clears his throat. “This is my, um… boyfriend. Brody.”
The word hangs between us.
Boyfriend.
I swear my heart does a full Niles Pruitt-worthy gymnastics routine, sticks the landing, then lands in my throat.
Ms. Delia looks at Beck and beams before turning back to me. “Well, it’s about damn time,” she says.
Beck makes a strangled noise, and I notice his eyes get watery. Ms. Delia nods like she’s been waiting years for this exact moment.
“It is so nice to meet you,” I say with my whole heart. Because even though I was nervous, it truly does mean so much to meet the woman who made Beck human when his father would have turned him into a machine.
She grills me in her own way. Instead of asking me about my grades or what my parents do, she asks me what my favorite color is and why, if I spend much time outdoors, because she feels that touching nature is the same thing as touching God.
She says the same thing about sex, which I wasn’t expecting.
Sometimes I can’t tell what’s her quirky personality and what’s a potential slip of her lucidity, because she definitely says some odd things here and there.
Once she asks Beck if he finished his homework.
And another time she looked me in the eye and told me, very seriously, that I get my eyes from my father, but my heart from my mother.
Which was weird, because it’s scarily accurate and I don’t think I mentioned my father at any point.
My favorite part of the day is hearing Beck, or Linc as she calls him, regale her with the specifics of how he shot his father down and came out to him at the same time. She hooted and clapped her hands like she’d never been so pleased.
Somehow the afternoon goes by without time passing at all, and I find myself on my knees next to her chair so this remarkable woman can “love on me,” as she calls it.
“You’re a special one, Brody Miller. You make sure my Linc takes care of you. And if he wants to do something for you, let him do it. Let him spoil you. Lord knows that child has more money than sense, but he likes to show he cares.”
“I’ll try,” I promise.
I give them a moment alone and wait for Beck in the hallway. When he comes out, he pulls me in for a long hug.
“Thank you for being you,” he says, and kisses me before pulling back and looking at me mischievously. “Ready for a surprise?”
Beck won’t tell me what the surprise is until we’re driving into Charlotte. Turns out, he booked a hotel room for the weekend.
I feel like it’s too much, but I try to keep what Ms. Delia said in mind and begin making mental plans for something I can do for him. Plus, when I try to argue, Beck mentions a massive king-sized bed and a jacuzzi tub we can both fit comfortably in together, and I’m pretty sold.
I’m confused when we pull into the parking lot of a high-end shopping mall instead of a hotel.
“Why are we here?”
“We need some things. I didn’t pack enough clothes, and you have a tragic lack of underwear.”
“Whose fault is that?”
He grins. “Exactly. Let me rectify it.”
“Does it have to be here, though? This place looks expensive. Doesn’t Charlotte have a Walmart?”
He looks aghast. “You would make me enter such a place?”
“I would record you and play it back just for the joy of watching your discomfort.”
“Rude. And not happening. Just think of it as a Christmas present.”
“Well, that’s not fair. I didn’t get you anything.”
“Brody,” he says, making my name sound like an apology and a prayer all at once. “You’ve given me everything. You gave me something I didn’t know I was missing.” He glances over, cheeks pink, then focuses back on the road. “I’ve given you almost nothing but grief and mixed signals.”
“That’s not true,” I protest automatically. “You gave me orgasms. Plural. Some pretty impressive ones, actually.”
He chokes. “That’s not—” He gives up, laughing. “You know what I mean.”
“Do I? Because I can’t reciprocate with stuff like this,” I say, gesturing to the ridiculously expensive department store.