Chapter 15 Beck #2
Catherine, reading the vibe, chatted for a few minutes, then graciously said she had a lab to finish and left.
Beck and Stephen stayed at the bakery till they were kicked out, then wandered around the northern end of Central Park, catching up on each other’s news.
When she asked about Audrey, Stephen just said, “She’s good.
” They left it at that, and she respected him for not talking about his sister.
Otherwise, the conversation bubbled up like an underground spring, and at some point, they held hands.
He asked if he could take her out to dinner that week.
She said yes, they kissed, the electricity sparking and hot, and the deal was sealed.
They were in a relationship, just like that.
A love so easy and comfortable, so meltingly delicious, so safe and thrilling that she’d stupidly thought it would never end.
“And?” Jasmine asks, jerking her back into present day.
“We were together until I finished at Columbia,” Stephen says, his dark eyes steady on hers.
“Why did you break up?” Jasmine asks.
“So nosy, Jasmine—but yeah, why?” Audrey says.
“Because I was going to Michigan for medical school, and I didn’t think it was fair to ask Rebecca to move.
She’d just been offered a job with a big casting director in LA, and it’s not the kind of thing you can do from Ann Arbor.
Besides, med school is pretty much guaranteed to crush any kind of relationship,” Stephen says. He’s still looking at her.
“It wasn’t just situational,” Beck says.
“We weren’t real adults yet. And, Audrey, I mean, I couldn’t exactly come bursting back into your life and say, ‘Sorry we haven’t spoken in however many years, hope you’re good, and guess what?
I’m marrying your brother!’” Shit. Hadn’t meant to say the M word.
“Not that we were talking about getting married,” she adds hastily. “We were just kids.”
They had talked about it, just once.
She polishes off her wine, hoping for a little buzz to ease the tension in her muscles. She takes a deep breath, willing herself to relax so her leg won’t hurt worse later on—stress does that—and exhales.
“So I broke you up?” Audrey says, looking confused.
“No, no,” Stephen says. “It had nothing to do with you, sis. It was logistics and common sense and knowing when to let go of someone before they end up resenting you. I can’t tell you how many of my med school classmates broke off engagements or got divorced.
” He looks up at the maple leaves spreading out over them. “Anyway.”
As if she could ever resent him.
“What kind of doctor are you?” Jasmine asks.
“An anesthesiologist,” he says. “The best kind of doctor ever, since all I do is take away your pain and give you a nice nap.”
“Well done,” Jasmine says. “And where do you live?”
“Worcester,” he says.
“Worcester?” Beck says.
“It’s had a renaissance,” Stephen says, smiling. “I live over by Institute Park.”
“His house is gorgeous,” Audrey says. “A Craftsman. With a pool.”
Beck’s favorite style of house. Go figure.
“My husband went to Holy Cross,” Jasmine says. “We’ve been back for events a few times. We even saw the Academy of St. Martin in the Fields at Mechanics Hall. And Wynton Marsalis.”
“I was at that one myself,” Stephen says.
“Really? I wish I’d run into you. Wasn’t he amazing?”
Beck reminds herself to thank Jasmine for the small talk that eases them into safer waters. Jasmine has always been socially graceful. She once told them she read books on how to win people over, never truly secure that she was okay as she was.
Audrey is looking at her, smiling a little. “Um . . . I’m sorry for smooching your brother back then,” Beck says.
“That’s okay. I’m more surprised he kept a four-year relationship secret from his wonderful big sister.” She punches him on the arm.
“Ow,” he says, gently shoving her shoulder. “Stop hitting me.”
“You started it.” Then Audrey yawns. “Well, this is all so interesting,” she says. “I need a nap to process everything. And also if I want to stay awake through the whole game tonight.”
“I could use one, too,” Jasmine says. “I’ll walk in with you.” She stands up and reaches for Audrey’s hand.
“I don’t know about the rest of you,” Audrey says, “but I’ll need a nap before we go to the game.”
There it is. Her disease, taking her away in bits and pieces.
“Good idea,” Jasmine says smoothly. “I’m pretty tired, too.” They walk toward the big white house. With the green fields behind them dotted by black-and-white cows, the red barn, the blaze of foliage, it’s like a painting. Tranquility in Vermont. Or, to be more accurate, Two Friends, One Dying.
Stephen is looking at her. Another painting—Hot Ex-Boyfriend Under Maple Tree.
“These chairs,” Beck says. “They’re really comfortable. Adirondack chairs usually cut off my circulation, but these are great.” Not that she’s a babbling idiot, no sir.
“Clay made them. He’s a good carpenter, if a pretty mediocre husband.”
“Audrey told us . . .” Should she say it? Once, she could tell Stephen almost anything. “She said there wasn’t a lot between them anymore.”
He shrugs. “I always thought Audrey deserved better. He’s kind of . . . vacant, if you know what I mean. But she was desperate to fill the hole in her life, and I think he fit the bill. And vice versa. He needed a mother for his kid, and she needed a family.”
“Yeah. I can see that,” Beck says. “Also, your parents did set the bar pretty high for a perfect marriage. The gold standard for marriage and parenthood.”
“True enough,” Stephen says fondly, standing up to add a couple more logs to the fire. “We were both lucky, Audrey and I.” He looks at her. “How about you, Rebecca? Are you with someone?”
“Um, no,” she says, feeling the blush prickle at her chest again. “No relationship for a while. I dated someone pretty seriously, but we weren’t right for each other.” She looks at her hands. “And you? Are you married, I mean?” Please don’t tell me you’re deliriously happy.
“No,” he says. “I just got out of a long-term relationship. Thought we’d get married, but she . . . Well, it didn’t work out.”
That but she . . . Seriously? Someone would break up with Stephen? Foolish woman.
“I’m so proud of you, Rebecca. I always watch the credits to see if you cast something. And my God, you’re everywhere. I always knew you’d be a success.”
She inhales unevenly. “Thanks,” she whispers.
He is the only one who’s ever called her Rebecca, and it does things to her.
It doesn’t sound formal. It sounds like foreplay.
That may be wishful thinking, but dear Lord.
She won’t tell him about the lawsuit or being blacklisted.
He doesn’t need to know about all that. This is just a meeting of old friends, and after this weekend, she’ll probably never see him again. Except at Audrey’s funeral.
Shit.
“How are you doing with Audrey’s diagnosis?” she asks as gently as she can.
He pokes at the fire, avoiding her gaze. “I can’t imagine life without her, honestly. There’s no getting around it. It’s brutal.” He swipes his eyes the way men do, one-handed and swift.
Beck goes over to him, takes the stick he’s using to irritate the logs and rests it against the firepit.
Then she slides her arms around his waist. They are the same height, both more solid than they were in college, but they fit together just like old times.
“I’m so, so sorry, Stephen,” she whispers, and he hugs her back, hard.
“Clay’s already got a dating profile, did she tell you? And that kid just won’t give her an inch. All Audrey’s ever wanted was to be a mom like ours. She’s tried so hard. And now her time is up, and she’ll never . . .” She feels him shake with a sob. “She’ll never get what she deserved.”
Beck is crying now, too. They stand there a long moment, arms around each other, the fire crackling, the smoke twisting through the cool air. There’s nothing she can say, nothing she can do. His beloved sister will soon be gone, and he’ll be alone in the world in a way he’s never been before.
“If you need me, as a friend, I’m right here,” she finally says. “No strings attached. Just a good solid shoulder, you know?”
He pulls back with a little laugh, squeezes that solid shoulder. “Still working out, I see,” he says.
“Damn straight,” Beck says, and she smiles at him, the only man she’s ever loved. “It’s great to see you,” she adds, because it is. Even if it cracks her heart in half.