Chapter 19 – Beck
BECK
How are you feeling?
Rosie
Much better. Thanks again for yesterday
Welcome
Mind if I come by tonight? To see Charlie?
Rosie
Charlie wanted to go to the beach today. Want to meet us at Jensen Beach?
If you don’t mind me tagging along
Rosie
Of course not. I want you to be able to see Charlie as much as possible before we go
So you’re still planning on going?
Rosie
We can talk more tonight
Fine
I’ll text you when I’m on my way
Iend the call and have the urge to chuck my phone into the ocean. Instead, I shove it into my pocket and throw my head back and release an untamed groan.
“That good, huh?” Jack’s voice sounds out and I turn around.
He’s standing on the porch holding out a coffee from Seashell Bookshop. I snatch it from him and grunt again.
“You’re welcome.” He takes a drink of his coffee, like him being here on my jobsite on a random weekday dressed in a suit is normal.
“Thanks,” I mumble, eyeing him below a furrowed brow. “What’re you doing here? Shouldn’t you be at work?”
“I’m the boss. I can do whatever the hell I want.”
“Huh. Well, I’m the boss too but here I am at work.”
“You need to hire better employees.”
“My brother works for me,” I argue.
“My point.”
I lean against the railing, facing Jack and the house, and lift my coffee to my mouth. “It’s the middle of the day. And you never just show up at my jobs. You okay?”
His jaw ticks. “Thought I should check on you. You’ve had a lot going on lately.”
“No shit.” I take a swig and shake my head.
“Hey, don’t be an ass just because you’ve got a boner for your ex-wife and she’s moved on.”
“Wife,” I correct him. But what’s the point? Why do I have to keep correcting everyone? Including the woman holding the title.
“That—that’s your problem right there.” He stabs a finger at me. “She’s not your wife anymore. Dude, she’s engaged to someone else. Face it, she’s moved on.”
“Ya know what? No one asked you to come by.”
“Again, you’re welcome.”
I take a drink of my coffee. He’s right. Though I won’t admit it to him. “Rosie’s leaving in a few days.”
Jack drops his chin and shakes his head. “That sucks, man. I’m sorry.”
“What am I supposed to do? I don’t know how to stop her. She’s going back to Seattle and taking Charlie with her and then when am I gonna see her? Some random weekends I can get over there? Or maybe some holidays?”
He shrugs. “I guess.”
“Well, that’s not good enough.” I pound my fist on the top of the railing.
“Did you tell her to stay?”
“Yep,” I drag out, almost as if I’m afraid to admit it.
“Then there’s nothing more you can do. My advice is—”
“I didn’t ask for your advice,” I interrupt.
“Tough shit, I’m gonna give it to you anyway. Sign the divorce papers and let her go. And take every opportunity you can to see your daughter.” He slaps my shoulder. “I gotta get back to work. But let’s hang out after they’re gone.”
I push off the railing and tip the cup at Jack. “Sounds good. Thanks for the coffee.”
“Welcome. See ya later.” He lifts his chin in a nod before rounding the house.
Milo peeks his head outside. “Coffee? Where’s mine?”
“At Seashells Bookshop,” I reply with a grunt.
“Smart-ass,” he mumbles. “C’mon, I’m ready for you in the house.”
“Yeah, yeah, coming.” I take in one last look at the beach, inhaling a deep breath.
My mind wanders to the beach near Dottie’s house. It’s a similar view but has the perfect alcove. The one Rosie and I spent countless hours hiding in while we made out. Dry humping on a beach is a lot messier than one might think. Sand goes everywhere, regardless if you’ve got clothes on or not.
Iskip out of work early. Jack was right about one thing: when you’re the boss, there should be no reason why you can’t leave early.
Plus, Milo owes me for planning to cut out early Thursday and taking Friday off.
My nerves are extra jittery. Probably just anxious to see Charlie, but I can’t help but stress over the conversations Rosie and I need to have.
We came so close last night to either completely ending things between us or confessing our love to one another. I’m not sure which one I fear more. I still love her. God only knows why. The woman broke my heart seven years ago and then showed up here with my child. I should hate her.
But how do you hate your first love? The only person to ever love you who didn’t have to. No blood. But she might as well have been. I’ve never loved anyone else. Not like this. And I fear I never will.
If I let her leave again without telling her how I really feel, I know I will regret it. But the words Jack said to me today play on repeat in my mind as I drive to the beach to meet Rosie and Charlie. Sign the divorce papers and let her go. And take every opportunity you can to see your daughter.
Jack is probably right. I had my chance with Rosie, and I blew it. But she blew it too. And maybe that should be our sign. If we were meant to be, we would’ve stayed together. It wouldn’t have been easy to let her go.
Except it wasn’t easy.
Letting Rosie go was the hardest thing I’ve ever done.
My phone chimes as I’m getting out of my Chevy at the beach parking lot.
Rosie
We’re about a half mile past the boardwalk
I yank off my boots and socks when I reach the sandy path that leads to the beach and hook my fingers in the back of them.
It’s busier than I’d like, but it’s not surprising.
Golden Harbor is becoming a tourist trap, quickly evolving into one of the coast’s top small towns to move to.
Now, if it appealed to the only person I care about moving here, then I wouldn’t mind our little town making it in the news.
The boardwalk comes into view. I shove back the memories and focus on the present. Because the past is the past. And Rosie and Charlie are here now. And that’s all that matters.
When I finally spot them off in the distance, my heart gives a squeeze. I take a mental picture because it may be all I have in a few days once they’re gone, and I’m left here alone. The raw, unfairness of that reality claws up my throat.
Charlie sees me first and when she does, it’s like her entire body smiles. I smile back and crouch, opening my arms wide as she runs toward me. When she reaches me, I clutch her against my chest and close my eyes tight. Unexpected emotions rattle me and tears prick my eyes.
Damn. I’m not a crier.
I swallow. “Hey, big girl. How’s today?”
“Daddy, I’m so glad you’re here!”
I draw back and stand when I spot Rosie approaching. But Charlie isn’t letting go so easily. She wraps one arm around my leg.
Rosie is dressed in a yellow tank sundress that’s low-cut with pockets. Her hair is down and wavy as the early evening breeze blows through it. A shock of intoxication pulses through my veins upon seeing her like this. Her coloring looks better than it did yesterday.
“You found us,” Rosie says, a small smile slipping. “How was your day?”
The question throws me off. Like she’s trying to be the dutiful wife and I’m the working husband and we are one big happy family spending an evening at the beach. But it’s all a fucking mirage.
“It was fine,” I answer. “The more important question is, how’s the beach today?” I glance down at Charlie and she finally unravels herself from my leg, taking a hold of my hand with her tiny one. “Find any good shells yet?”
Her face lights up, showing off her toothless grin as she digs her free hand deep into her pocket and presents two colorful shells.
“Those are awesome.”
“Mama found a piece of blue sea glass. Show him, Mama.”
Rosie removes the sea glass from the pocket of her sundress and opens her palm. “Pretty, right?”
“Yeah, that’s a good one.”
“It’s the first time I’ve found sea glass.”
“But, Mama, you have a necklace with sea glass in your jewelry box. It’s green and a heart.”
Rosie and I both lift our gazes from the sea glass and meet one another’s eyes. Blush tints her lightly freckled cheeks and I hold my breath.
“You kept it?” My voice is like gravel.
Tilting her chin, she breaks our eye contact. “Of course I did.”
“But…why?” It comes out accusatory.
She runs her fingertips down the front of her neck, turning to face the ocean. “Hey, Charlie. How about you show your dad how fast you are at playing tag with the waves?”
“Okay. Watch me, Daddy.” Charlie runs backward until she sees me looking in her direction and she spins around to run toward the water.
“Why?” I ask again, while I watch Charlie.
“I can’t believe you’re asking why. That piece of sea glass was like a promise. A placeholder for the engagement ring you gave me later. Don’t you remember?”
“Of course I remember,” I mutter, squinting through the breeze.
“Then why ask?”
“I guess I just don’t get why you’d bother keeping it.”
“Despite what you might think, I did love you.”
“Did?” I say, without thinking it through first.
“I did,” she confirms, and my bare feet feel as if they’re sinking deeper in the wet sand. “I still do.”
I whip my head to face her and my heart thrashes against my ribcage. She’s smiling, her cheeks aglow and her golden-rimmed green eyes sparkling against the low setting sun. She attempts to push her hair behind her ears as it blows crazily in the wind.
“Don’t look so surprised.” She rolls her eyes playfully.
And I can’t sort through my emotions fast enough. My hands tremble and I wring them out. Is this genuine, or is she fucking with me? Because my heart couldn’t handle that.
“Last night—”
“My pride didn’t let me admit it,” she interrupts.
“Not before you did. But then when I woke up this morning and found myself face-to-face with the urn holding Dottie’s ashes, I was reminded just how short life can be.
” She takes her eyes off Charlie for a second and glances my way with something that resembles pity reflected there. “But, Beck…”
“No buts,” I interject, the muscle in my shoulders stretching taut as I draw in a breath.
“I’m engaged to someone else. When he proposed and I said yes, I made a promise to him.” There’s pleading in her misty eyes.
Hot blood rushes through my veins as anger builds in me. “Yeah, and you made a promise to me too.”
“I know.” She bites her lip, nodding. “I will always love you. That will never change. But I think it’s time we come to terms with the truth. We both played a part in our breakup. The fact that I left and you didn’t come after me—that I left at all—should tell us that our love wasn’t enough.”
“That’s not fair,” I bite out.
She bobs her head. “It’s not. At least we agree on something.”
My throat goes thick, and I can’t think straight.
“We need to just focus on what’s best for Charlie now.”
I turn and watch as she runs to the waves, taps the water with her toe, and then spins around and races back toward us. I squeeze both of my fists into tight balls, stretch out my fingers, and squeeze them again in some sort of attempt to keep the anxiety at bay.
“Can you please do something for me?” I don’t wait for her to answer, or maybe I don’t hear her as there’s a blaring pounding in my ears. I turn to look at her intently. “Promise me you’ll really think about moving here.”
“Beck.” My name slips out of her mouth like she’s exhausted with me.
“Not for me. For Charlie. Please.”
She purses her lips before finally nodding. “Okay.”
Then I turn and tug my phone free from my pocket and take pictures of my daughter as she plays in the waves.
Because these photos of her—now—in Golden Harbor may be the only ones I’ll ever get of her here.
That thought is almost enough to send me spiraling.
But I repeat the mantra in my head that Dr. Sam taught me.
Inhale. Hold, hold, hold. Exhale.
Inhale. Hold, hold, hold. Exhale.
Inhale. Hold, hold, hold. Exhale.
I refuse to miss this precious moment with my daughter because of a damn panic attack.