Page 98 of One Last Encore

"How are you? We haven’t talked in ages." The faint hum of the correctional facility buzzed in the background, with muffled voices and the occasional sharp whistle from a guard.

Yeah, he’d been dodging her calls. He couldn’t help it. Talking to her brought everything back, all that chaos, the disappointments, all the memories he tried so hard to bury.

What stung the most was knowing she was only sober because she had no choice. Not because she wanted to get better. Not because of him. Or Rodney. She could have. But she didn’t.

She was only sober because she was locked up, because the alcohol was taken away, not because she had walked away from it herself. And that truth sat like a stone in his chest, heavy, bitter, and impossible to swallow.

"I'm good. Just busy with school and gigs," Beck said lightly. He left out the mess with Rodney, the drinking, and everything else quietly fraying at the edges.

The truth was, he’d been drinking most nights. Enough to take the edge off, to quiet the noise constantly roaring in his head. He told himself it wasn’t that bad, that he was managing. He’d switched to beer instead of whiskey most nights, as if that somehow made it better, more controlled. It was a flimsy excuse, but one he clung to. He kept it hidden from Ingrid. Or at least, he tried to. She hadn’t said anything, but he wasn’t sure if that meant she didn’t notice or didn’t want to. But last night... last night had been a breaking point.

"And your brother? Is he behaving himself?" she asked, sounding hopeful.

His brother had always been the wildfire Beck was forced to chase, unpredictable and reckless, leaving destruction in his wake. He was two years older but acted like a damn teenager. Their mom’s golden boy, no matter how many times he crashed and burned.

Beck let out a short, humorless laugh. "No, Mom. When has Rodney ever behaved?"

"Cut him some slack, Bear. You know what he’s been through. What we’ve all been through. He talks a big game, but you know what’s underneath."

Beck’s jaw tightened, his grip on the phone instinctively clenching. He did know. He’d seen it all. He was the one who found him after his overdose at seventeen, the one who covered for him when he stole money straight out of Mom’s purse. The one who kept trying, again and again, even when he knew better. But knowing didn’t make it any easier to forgive.

"Yeah, well, he’s not exactly making it easy," Beck muttered, his voice edged with something bitter, something tired.

"He’s your only brother. The only family you’ve got left."

"What about you?" he asked before he could stop himself.

"You have me," she said quickly. "But it’s hard, Bear. You know it is."

There was a pause, and for some reason, the urge to tell her about Ingrid crept in.

"Well," he started slowly, "I met someone."

Silence stretched for a beat before he could practically hear her smile. "Really? Tell me about her."

His lips quirked despite himself. "Smart, caring, talented… and always giving me shit." A warmth threaded through his voice as Ingrid filled his thoughts. "And beautiful. Like, everything beautiful in the world, packed into one person."

His mother let out a quiet laugh, surprised. "I don’t think I’ve ever heard you talk about anyone like that before."

Beck didn’t hesitate. "I’m gonna marry her."

He hadn’t planned on saying it, but the moment the words left his mouth, he knew it was true. From the moment he met Ingrid, he just knew. She was it, the one thing in his life that made sense.

His mom let out another small, almost wistful chuckle. "I believe it. You’ve always been a bulldog about what you want. Grandma used to say that all the time."

Beck smiled at the memory. It had been years since he’d thought about that, but it fit.

Before he could say anything else, his mother’s voice softened. Warmer than it had been in a long time. "If I can’t make it to the wedding… just know I’m proud of you. Anyone you choose to love has to be special."

"Everything okay, Mom?"

"Yeah, yeah," she said quickly. "Just feeling a little off. Some pain here and there, but I’m seeing the doctor later. It’s probably nothing serious."

Beck frowned, unease curling tight in his chest. "Take care of yourself, okay? I’ll send you some money."

"That’d be nice, honey," she murmured, her voice unusually tender. "Love you, always."

"Love you too, Mom."

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