Chapter 7 – Beck
BECK
My skin heats. It starts at the back of my neck and seeps into my face. The tips of my ears burn.
It takes what feels like an eternity for Rosie to answer. Meanwhile, my body is on overdrive. My legs and arms fill with lead. A whirling sensation crams my thoughts, causing my head to pound.
She swipes a knuckle under her nose and sniffs. “Six. She’s six,” she whispers.
“Rosie—” Her name comes out broken. I throw my hands up and run them across the top of my head and down the nape of my neck. She can’t be. It’s not possible. Can she? “Charlie…is she…?”
But somehow, I already know before Rosie speaks and confirms it. The undeniable truth is visible on her face. In her body language. Because I know her.
And maybe because I could spot the Stone family resemblance on the little girl. Spot my likeness.
Rosie meets my eye, and her gaze sends an ache deep in my gut. With a small, pitiful smile, she wipes her cheeks and finally whispers, “She is.”
And now I’m crying.
“Charlotte is your daughter.”
“Shit. Rosie. Are you kidding me?” I blurt.
She dips her chin and tucks her hair behind her ear. “I know, I know.”
“No,” I mutter, “you don’t know.” I bend to meet her eyes with mine and draw her face upward. “What the hell?”
“I’m sorry,” she says on a sob.
“You’re sorry? You’re sorry? Rosie.” I clench my hands into fists and whip around, stalking away several feet before spinning back and pacing toward her again. “We had a baby, and you didn’t tell me? I thought…I thought we lost her.”
“I know. But—”
My vision blurs and I scratch at my stubbled chin. “This doesn’t make sense. You…the bleeding…and cramping…you miscarried?”
She shakes her head. “That’s what we thought. What we assumed. But about a month after I left, I missed my period, so I made an appointment. And they did an ultrasound and…there she was.”
“How could you do this? How could you not tell me?”
She reaches for my arm, but I wrench it out of her grasp.
“I meant to. I planned to. I was going to call. Then I thought it would be better if I came to tell you in person. But then one month turned into two, and two into three, and so on. And you knew I was in Seattle. Dottie told me she told you. And you never came after me. You never even called.”
I stab a finger at her. “No. Don’t blame me for this.”
“I know, I’m sorry, but please calm down,” she hisses like a warning.
I pinch the bridge of my nose as I pace back and forth again. “And now, you show up here, six years later. What am I supposed to do with this?”
“Please,” she pleads.
I stop in front of her, my eyes hardening as a sharp pain shoots through my chest. “No. You don’t get to tell me to calm down.”
“Please don’t cause a scene like you always do.”
“Excuse me? Me? I think you’ve got that backward, honey.” I glare. “But at least I’ve got a good excuse. I just found out I have a kid. That I’m a father.”
“I know. And I know you probably have a lot of questions, but this isn’t the place or the time for this conversation.”
I exhale a long, low breath. I gaze into Rosie’s eyes. The pain and regret I see in them doesn’t compare to what I’m feeling.
“Did Dottie know?”
She nods and I shut my eyes tight, pushing out a traitorous tear.
“It wasn’t her place to tell you. And I asked her not to.”
“Yeah,” I mutter, “and I guess she was quick to bend to your demands.” Charlotte and Max run past us with Stella following behind them, trying and failing at being nonchalant.
“Did Jack and Stella know?”
She purses her lips. “Yes. But then that’s it. Other than my parents.”
I run a palm down my face and groan. “I’m such an idiot. This whole time…I thought you miscarried. And everyone knew you didn’t but me. And I bet they all think I’m some kind of deadbeat dad, huh?”
“No, of course not. They know you had no idea you’re a father.”
“Ha!” I scoff. “That’s the thing, Rosie. I’m not a father. You can’t be a father when you never knew a kid existed. You took that away from me. Don’t you get that?” I turn and stalk away.
“Wait,” she calls. “I can reintroduce you. So she’ll know too.”
“Don’t bother,” I grit out over my shoulder as I stalk off.
If I was like my father after receiving bad news, I’d be taking a twelve-pack of beer and my shotgun up to Golden Pointe.
There were a few times I had to drive up there and rescue him.
I’d find him near passed out, empty cans shot up and scattered.
He’d curse at me while I forced him into my truck and buckled him into the passenger seat.
Like somehow, his screwups and bad life choices were my fault.
But I took it. Him shoving me around and the verbal abuse. I couldn’t risk Milo being taken away. I had to protect him, protect his childhood by keeping our family together.
And now I have this other family I couldn’t protect because I didn’t even know she existed.
I drive to the beach and park on the street against the curb.
Before I hop out of my Chevy, I strip off my suit jacket, and wish I had my surfboard with me.
I slip off the black dress shoes and socks and amble onto the sand barefoot.
The beach is about the only place that works to clear my head and give me clarity.
My feet reach the cool sand and a shiver races up my legs. I keep walking until my toes dip in the ocean. The rush of frigid waves focuses my thoughts and feelings. And they’re ones I don’t want to face.
Rosie had so many health issues we didn’t think it was possible for her to have children. The painful cramps came on days outside of the typical week-long periods I’d learned about in school. Rosie was facing something entirely different than the average girl.
Some days her body was too exhausted to even get out of bed for her cosmetology school in LA. I tried to help when I could. Be there to drive her or cook for her. There had been a handful of late-night ER trips filled with tears, ultrasounds, and unanswered questions.
A few years into our marriage, I’d accepted that I wouldn’t ever be a father.
And if I’m being honest with myself, I was okay with that.
I have too many painful emotions tied to the concept of fathers.
When I thought Rosie miscarried and our relationship ended, my dreams of ever being a father ended as well.
But like it or not, I am a father.
In my periphery I see Milo heading down the beach. He’s changed out of his suit and is back in his typical gym clothes. When he reaches me it’s hard to hold back from expelling everything I just learned.
“How’d you know I was here?”
“Because you always come here when you’re pissed off at the world.” He picks up a seashell and chucks it into the waves.
“And how’d you know I was pissed?”
“I saw you talking to Rosie. More like I heard you talking to Rosie.”
“Yeah? And what did you hear?” I grunt.
Milo shrugs. “Not much. But it sounded like a heated discussion.”
“Did you hear that I’m a father?” I rush out.
He jerks his head to look at me, his eyes huge. “What?”
“Yep. Apparently the little girl with Rosie…is my…daughter.”
“What the hell?”
“I know. I had the same reaction.” My skin tingles as the earlier conversation replays through my mind.
“How is that possible? She’s been gone for, what? Six or seven years? How old is the girl?”
I look at him—deadpan. “Almost seven.”
He props his hands on his hips. “You’re sure she’s yours?”
“Milo,” I mutter on a released breath. “Have you seen her? She looks like me. Hell, she looks like you. That girl is definitely a Stone.”
Milo lets out a low whistle. “I can’t believe she had a baby and never told you. What are you gonna do?”
I shake my head. “I don’t know.” I dig my toes into the wet sand. “What can I do?”
“I hate to say it, but now that you know, bro, you can’t just be an absent father.”
Of course I can’t. I won’t. But I don’t know how this is going to work.
“Her life is in Seattle, mine is here. What am I supposed to do? Just move over there and start over? I don’t even know the girl.
What if she wants nothing to do with me?
What if she hates me for not being around these last six years? ”
Milo glances out toward the ocean and shakes his head slowly. “I don’t know. But what I do know is you’re not gonna let this go. You’re too good of a person. Even if she ends up pushing you away.”
“What if I don’t have a choice?”
“Don’t give her the choice.”
“What if I suck at being a dad?” I finally ask the question that’s been haunting me since I heard the news. “We didn’t have the best example.”
He turns to face me. “You’re gonna be an awesome dad.
You know how I know?” But he doesn’t wait for me to answer.
“Because you were an awesome dad to me,” he admits, the honesty of his words hanging in the air between us.
“You stepped up to be a father figure for me. And now, you get to do it for this little girl. Your little girl.”
“That was different. I had to.”
“That’s bullshit. You didn’t have to. And you need to stop saying that. What you did was selfless. Not just anyone would do that, but you did.”
My eyes burn.
“But now, I’m good. Thanks to you. And Dad is coming around. Now that he’s sober, he’s trying to make up for lost time. We’ll get there.”
“What are you suggesting? That I move to Seattle? Because that’s crazy.” I shove my hands through my hair and slide them to the back of my neck, interlocking my fingers.
“I’m not saying that. All I’m saying is maybe keep an open mind. But you need to start with getting to know this little girl. Because you’re probably right, she’s going to have a lot of questions.”
Turning to face the waves, I stuff my hands in my pockets. A few seagulls swoop down to the sand to peck at a crab that’s belly-up. “Yeah, and how am I supposed to answer them?”
“With honesty. That’s what I would want of our dad.”
Sounds so simple. But it’s anything but. “How’d your ass get so wise?”
“I had a great role model.”
I glance at him and he’s looking at me, grinning. I hook my arm around his neck and haul him into my side. He allows a second of brotherly love before he retreats, breaking free from my hold and then tackling me from behind.
He may be grown up, but he’s still my kid brother and I know him. He’d rather roughhouse than get emotional or affectionate. So I let him lighten the mood.
He nearly takes me down, but I’ve got a least an inch on him and use it to my benefit. I escape and he chases me before hopping onto my back to try to take me out that way and we both end up in the water.