Chapter 15 – Beck
BECK
“Igot it!” I sputter into the phone after Rosie answers. “Looks like she’s still in one piece.”
“Oh good, thank you!” Relief sounds in her tone.
“I’ll be there in about five minutes.”
“You’re our savior. Seriously, you have no idea.”
I hang up and drive faster than I probably should. This isn’t a race. But tell that to my heartbeat, because it hasn’t gotten the memo. It’s been going a mile a minute since my phone rang and I saw Rosie’s name flash across my screen.
By the time I reach Dottie’s cottage, my pulse is too fast. I force myself to take a few moments and catch my breath. I’ll be no good to them if I’m out here having a panic attack.
Experiencing a kid’s lost object is new to me. How dire is this situation? Because the way Rosie sounded on the phone and by the way Charlie was carrying on in the background, I’d say it’s very serious.
I rush to the back door, and I don’t even have to knock.
Rosie swings it open and the relief on her face is visible.
Her shoulders lower while she exhales an audible sigh and a genuine smile pulls at her lips.
It’s the kind of smile that she used to have when she’d look at me.
“Oh thank God. You honestly saved the day.”
“No problem. Happy I could help.”
“You have no idea.”
“Here.” I hold it out for her but she shakes her head, and I clutch my grip tighter around the soft mermaid.
“You should take it up to her.”
“Really?” I run my hand over my head.
Rosie pinches the sleeve of my flannel and tugs me inside. “Yes, really. You’re going to be her hero.”
“I’ve never been someone’s hero before,” I admit, not able to restrain the inflating of my chest at the thought.
“That’s not true,” she whispers quietly, almost like a confession. Like maybe she didn’t mean to say it out loud.
We make eye contact, and warmth expands beneath my ribcage. I have to force my feet to move down the hall so my mind doesn’t take a trip down memory lane. “Well, if you think it will help.”
“Are you kidding,” she says from behind me. “A hero moment for a dad has to be a big thing. I wouldn’t know, I don’t think I have one.”
I purse my lips, thinking about Rosie’s overachiever dad, in all areas except for being a father. We at least had that in common. We both had dads who would rather be anywhere than with their kids.
Charlie’s bedroom door is open about a foot, I peek my head inside and glance around.
It’s not really decorated for a kid. Since framing the wall and separating the large room back into two like it used to be, Dottie decorated it in the coastal theme that matches the entire house.
Dottie probably hoped Charlie or Rosie might sleep in this room if they came to live.
There’s framed art of seashells and coral hanging on light blue walls.
Mermaid and whale statues sit on the bookcase shelves among jars of seashells.
A pile of navy and white blankets sits in the middle of the bed, which I can only assume Charlie’s hiding beneath. I rap my knuckles on the inside of the doorjamb to announce my arrival, then shuffle into the room with Rosie following behind me.
“Um, hey, Charlie,” I mumble, clutching the stuffed mermaid in my sweaty hand.
The blankets rustle but she doesn’t come out.
“Are you missing something?”
The pile moves and Charlie looks out, her eyes red rimmed, her little cheeks blotchy, and her hair mussed.
But as soon as she sees what’s in my hand, her entire face brightens.
She shoots out of the bed and tears the mermaid from my grip.
Bringing it to her chest, she hugs it and squeezes her eyes tight, smiling a huge toothless grin.
“Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you,” she repeats.
When she opens her eyes, she launches herself into my arms and I have no choice but grab a hold of her so she doesn’t fall.
She nuzzles her little head in the crook of my neck and my chest expands.
I inhale her sweet, just cleaned smell without thinking and it does something to my insides.
Something I’ve never experienced before.
It’s like a new emotion has unlocked. One I don’t have the words to name or explain.
Warmth travels through my arms and legs. “You’re welcome.”
“I knew you’d find her, Daddy. I just knew it,” she whispers into my neck.
I peer over the top of Charlie’s head at Rosie.
Tears are filling her eyes, and she tucks her chin to her chest while she leans her back against the wall.
My own eyes burn, and there’s a weird pinch underneath my ribs.
Is this what just a smidge of being a dad feels like?
It’s suffocating but in the best way and yet it’s too much too fast.
I unlatch her small arms from around me and set her back onto the bed. “Okay, well, your mama says you were just going to bed. So, I’ll let you get to it.”
She smiles and tugs the fluffy navy blue blanket up to her shoulders after she lies down.
The stuffed mermaid is still tight in her embrace.
This thing has already become so important to her that it caused a big ruffle in her bedtime routine.
I push her matted hair out of her face and when I see the dimple in her chin that matches mine, my heart balloons inside my chest.
“Okay, well, I’ll see you tomorrow,” I mutter and back away. There’s an urgency hurtling through my body, making me want to retreat.
“Wait! Daddy, stay.”
“I—what?”
“Stay until I fall asleep. Please?”
I glance over my shoulder at Rosie. She’s chewing her lower lip but offers me no other options. At the very least, she could give me a hint of what I should do in this situation. But she doesn’t. So I take it as a sign that I gotta stay.
“Yeah, okay.” I pick up the chair that’s in the corner of the room and drag it near the bed. “I’ll stay till you’re asleep. But then I’m gonna go and I’ll see you tomorrow. Deal?”
She grins. “Deal.”
“Okay, now shut your eyes,” I insist. I glance at Rosie again and mouth, Is this okay?
She nods and a small smile pulls at her lips. “I’m gonna go boil some water for tea. ’Night, baby girl.” She gives Charlie a kiss on the cheek before tiptoeing out of the room.
I cross my arms and lean back in the chair, gazing at my daughter. My daughter. It’s still sinking in even days after learning about her existence.
Watching her little brown eyes blink closed and her chest expanding and deflating as she slips into sleep is probably one of the most relaxing things I’ve ever witnessed. Forget meds. Forget therapy. Just give me this. Night after night.
She’s so peaceful now when moments ago she was a wreck.
Just like me when I’m in panic mode. Hell, I was there tonight.
Racing to the restaurant, rushing inside like a lunatic searching for a stuffed mermaid that cost me sixteen bucks.
But the stupid relief I felt when I found it was something I’ve never experienced.
For the first time since learning about Charlie, I’ve got my first glimpse into what it feels like to be a father. It was terrifying. And she wasn’t even hurt. I can’t imagine how I’d be if she were in danger or sick.
My gut tightens and it hits me in this moment—I want this. All the time. Not part time and sure as hell not only for the week Charlie and Rosie are in Golden Harbor. I don’t know how that’s going to happen. But I know I need to do everything in my power to make it happen.
Rosie pops her head into the bedroom and gestures for me to come. I glance back at Charlie and my heart is torn. I could sit here and watch her sleep all night. But I don’t belong here. I rise to my feet and pull the blanket up to Charlie’s chin before turning around and joining Rosie in the hall.
“You want to stay for some tea? We should talk,” she whispers.
She’s standing so close. Too close. Her toes are practically touching mine. The walls in the hallway shut in around us and I pull in a much-needed breath.
My brain knows we’re going to talk about Charlie.
She’s offering me tea and a chat not whiskey and sex like when we were first married.
But I can’t convince my hormones of that.
It’s like anytime I’m around her, I can’t think straight.
I either want to fight or screw. Maybe both. Yeah, probably both.
I swallow. “Yeah, sure. Tea sounds…good.”
She smiles and places her palm to her stomach. The action sends a trigger to my brain, reminding me of her illness. I follow her down the hallway toward the stairs. “Hey, you okay?”
“Yeah,” she whispers, waving her hand in a little twirl over her shoulder. “You know, the normal. My normal,” she clarifies.
I do know. More than I want to. I didn’t simply marry Rosie, I married her chronic illness. The two are not separate from one another. They can’t be when the disease is that severe. But I didn’t mind. I loved her. There wasn’t anything I wouldn’t do for her.
“Please tell me you’ve found some relief, some alternative medicine or surgery after all these years?”
She hunches her shoulder and we enter the kitchen. It’s clean but feels empty with no sign of Dottie.
“I’ve had a few surgeries. The symptoms got worse after I had to have a c-section with Charlie.
More tissue attached to my organs. More specifically, my bowels.
But who wants to talk about that?” She reaches in the cupboard for two mugs, and I study her while she moves around the kitchen with a little stagger.
My gut twists and I clench my teeth, leaning against the counter and crossing one ankle over the other. “I’m sorry. That sucks.”
“Thanks,” she mumbles, filling the mugs with hot malty scented tea. “I’m still debating on a hysterectomy. But my doctor says I’m young, I might want more kids.”
My gaze flickers up from the steaming mugs and I catch her eye. “Do you? Want more kids, I mean?” I don’t have a right to ask. But then again, do I? Charlie having a sibling would concern me.
So I don’t take the question back.