Page 40 of Diving In

Being back in this backyard, looking into his deep brown eyes and at his shaggy brown hair, I was inundated with images of being here, standing in this exact spot, playing tag with Fletcher.

Cal looked at him, waiting for a response before gathering that his attention had been grabbed by something else.

While turning around, Cal started to ask, “What are you look—” but as soon as he laid eyes on me, he froze.

We all did.

I felt lightheaded from all the questions buzzing through my head. Wavering, I stumbled toward the closest chair, which happened to be a navy Adirondack that looked like it had weathered more than a few storms. I was lucky it didn’t collapse as soon as I felt the seat beneath me.

“Beau, you should go,” Cal said as he ushered the boy toward the beach.

Beau.I could finally put a name to his familiar face.

I wanted to talk. I even attempted to a couple times, but I just couldn’t string together enough words to make a comprehensible sentence. If felt like maybe deep down, a part of me knew I was afraid to say anything because I knew exactly who Beau was, which absolutely fucking terrified me. I couldn’t even bring myself to look in his direction.

Beau grabbed his backpack and skateboard, keeping his head down and avoiding glancing my way. He was tall and lean, and his presence was calm and quiet. His brown hair tousled to the left, wielding chocolate brown strands—ones that I had seen before. He was strong and built in a surfer kind of way, not in a muscle-man kind of way.

He was him, or at least a part of him. That much I was certain of.

Still unsure what to say next, I just sat there, body completely frozen as my eyes followed Beau’s movements. He turned toward the beach but stopped and lingered a bit with his back facing both Cal and me.

He was about to walk away when I stopped him. “Beau?”

Fearful that I would start crying if I looked up, I kept my head down. I could feel the tears already forming, threatening to break free at any second.

With a shaky voice, Beau started, “I saw you at The Grounded Bean and I immediately knew who you were. You look just like him. Just like grandpa, likeJack.” He paused and dared a glance back at me, checking to make sure he was allowed to call him that. “I’ve heard so many things about you over the years. I’ve dreamt about the day that I would meet you, the day that I would finally feel like I was a part of this family. But even now, standing right in front of you, I still don’t feel it.”

“A part of this family…” My breaths slowed and I could feel them like tiny knives each time I inhaled. His words pierced my heart with each syllable that left his mouth.

He had just confirmed it.

Beau was Jack’s grandson. Fletcher’s son.Mynephew.

The words hadn’t even left my mouth and I still felt the blow to my chest, almost as if I’d run directly into a freight train going fifty miles per hour.

“Beau?” I muttered, trying to get his attention before he walked away for good. “D-did you, uh, get to meet him?”

“Fletcher? No, he died before I was born. My mom always did her best to keep his memory alive though, and then after Jack eventually learned he had a grandson, he filled in the gaps,” he stated. Sadness quickly spread over his entire face, making him look like a lost soul.

I shuddered at his name.Fletcher.

My nephew, my flesh and blood. A piece of Fletcher that I never knew existed… It was like I was looking right at a younger version of him. It made my reaction when I saw Beau in the café the other day make so much more sense.

I knew he was connected to Fletcher. They were just too similar, right down to the way he sipped his coffee, both hands tightly gripping the mug regardless of the fact that it was scalding to the touch.

I wanted to know everything. I wanted to hug him, I wanted to scream, and I wanted to apologize that I hadn’t been there for him. I wasn’t there to see him take his first steps, I wasn’t there when he said his first word, I wasn’t there to see him ride a bike for the first time. And the most heartbreaking thing was that I wasn’t there to help him remember his dad. To remember Fletcher.

I could have said something,shouldhave said something, but instead, I stayed silent. I just watched him go with tears streaking down my cheeks.

Beau turned back toward the trees, but then he stopped, looked over his shoulder, and locked eyes with me. “It was nice to meet you, Georgia,” he said, so genuinely I thought I might break.

Flustered that he was already leaving, I blurted out, “Why did Jack keep you a secret?”

Beau stopped mid-step, just barely turning his body to face us. “Jack didn’t find out about me until I was four years old, and that was only after Cal told him.” He looked in Cal’s direction, a slight smile in his expression. “My mom never planned on any of you Windsor’s finding out. She said it was too hard for her with Fletcher being gone.”

That made me angry, and I felt the heat running across my cheeks. We were his family, we deserved to know him. Fletcher would’ve wanted that.

“Then Jack found out, and it made things a little complicated. Mom made him promise he wouldn’t tell you or Naomi, at least until I got older and could decide for myself if I wanted to know you. She said she wouldn’t let me come down here and visit anymore if he did, so he didn’t.” Disappointment decorated his face. He was so young, but he talked as though he’d already lived many lives.

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