Tucker #2
An incoming phone call answers my very prayers, and I send up a silent thanks to the universe for being on my side. “Oops, sorry,” Gracie says, glancing at her phone as she slides it from her pocket. “I should take this, it’s one of the sponsors. But this conversation isn’t over, Beaumont.”
Something tells me she might not ever let this go. She’s barely out of earshot when Randy swivels in his chair, facing me. “I was hopin’ we’d get a moment to chat without her.”
My eyes ping-pong between where Gracie stands on the front porch, and Randy. “Everything alright?” I ask.
“‘Course, just figured it wouldn’t be polite to talk about her in front of her.” He says it so matter-of-factly that I suppress a grin.
“Behind her back is far more polite,” I jest.
“Don’t make me slap you, boy. This is serious.
Now, I ain’t gon’ talk for her, because she’s a grown woman and y’all can have a conversation yourselves, but that daughter of mine is struggling right now.
Can’t quite figure out who she is and where she belongs.
I suggest you move cautiously ‘cause she’ll spook easily, but I thought you might be able to help her see what’s clear to the rest of us. ”
“That she belongs here?”
“That she belongs with you, Tuck. I know she’s been gone a long time, but time can’t change what’s meant to be.”
“Hell, Randy, if I’d known you were gonna drop this on me tonight, I might’ve been a little more prepared for the conversation.”
A great bark of laughter bursts from his mouth. My eyes dart back out to the porch to see if Gracie heard it, but she’s facing the other way, phone pressed tightly to her ear.
“I’ve always found it’s best to catch people off guard, keeps things exciting.” He waves a hand through the air. “Anyway, like I said—you and her need to talk amongst yourselves, but make sure you ease her into opening up, alright?”
“Yes, sir,” I say with a nod.
The sound of the front door closing softly alerts us to Gracie’s return.
“You know I’ve always been Team Tucker,” Randy whispers with a wink, just moments before Gracie walks into the room. I wipe a hand across my mouth, biting back a smirk.
She eyes us suspiciously when we’re silent, saying, “Please, don’t stop dishing the dirt on my account.”
Exchanging glances, Randy and I both chuckle before he breaks the silence. “We wouldn’t dare gossip without you, kiddo.” He gives me a wink. Unfortunately for Randy, Gracie just happens to see it, too.
“Y’know what? I don’t want to know.” With a shake of her head she sits back down and the three of us slip right back into easy conversation.
Gracie’s not so subtle attempt at stifling a yawn nudges me to check the time. “Shit,” I mutter under my breath. It’s somehow almost nine o’clock. Randy notices me checking the time and does the same thing, then lets out an almighty yawn of his own.
“You kids have kept me up past my bedtime,” he says at the end of his yawn.
“I’m pretty sure you did most of the talking, Dad.” Gracie laughs lightly as she speaks.
Randy pushes himself up and grabs his crutches. “Anyone up for a cup of joe?”
“Thank y’all so much for your hospitality, but I should probably be headin’ home now.”
“There ain’t no need to thank family for their hospitality, son,” Randy calls from behind the kitchen countertop. He doesn’t call me ‘son’ very often—normally favoring bud or boy—but every time he does, it means more to me than he’d ever truly know.
Standing, I reach to collect up our plates, until a gentle hand on my arm stops me. Even if I hadn’t seen the perfectly manicured fingertips, the electricity that rips across my skin is the only clue I need.
“Leave that,” Gracie says with a half-smile, “I’ve got it.”
“I insist,” I say, painfully aware she’s still touching me. “But you might have to let go of my arm first.”
Her eyes remain locked on mine and for a moment, neither of us move. Hell, I don’t even think I breathe.
A bang from behind the fridge breaks the trance.
“You alright, Dad?” Gracie speedwalks toward where the noise came from, with me hot on her heels.
“Dropped the darn crutch.”
Once both crutches are securely under Randy’s arm again, he cups my shoulder. “Let’s do this again, yeah?” he offers as he gives me a half hug.
“Absolutely.” I flash him a smile.
“Gracie, peanut,” he says sweetly, “would you be so kind as to walk Tucker out?” He looks down at his plastered leg and back up at her, smiling innocently.
It’s an effort to hold back a laugh when she rolls her eyes. Randy simply grins and says, “See you ‘round, Tuck,” then hobbles off on his crutches.
Gracie walks with me out onto the porch.
There’s a soft click as the front door closes gently behind her.
I turn to face her, and damn near have my breath taken away.
She looks so beautiful beneath the moonlight.
There’s a glow about her right now that simply can’t be seen in the mere daylight.
Sliding my fingers between hers, I give her hand a squeeze. “I think I’ll be okay from here.”
She peers up at me, eyeing me wearily. “Did you really call that often to ask about me?” Her voice is so soft, so vulnerable, it could’ve been a whisper on the wind.
My heart rate picks up speed, and I swear I can feel it beating in my throat.
Might as well be honest; I’ve got nothing to lose.
“I tried to call more,” I admit as I turn so we’re chest to chest, “but your dad said if I promised to only call once a week, he’d promise to give me a full update in return. ”
Her blue eyes shine brightly beneath the moonlight as she stares up at me with an almost childlike wonder. I watch as they search my own, and I wonder what she sees in them. I look into hers, and I see my whole future.
“You are something else, Tucker Beaumont,” she whispers before her hands cup my cheeks and she kisses me.
Her lips are soft against mine as they move in tandem, knowing each other better than they’ve ever known another’s lips.
We must’ve kissed goodbye right here in this very spot a hundred or more times, but this time is different—it’s more like a homecoming kiss.