Page 13 of Dibs
“Thanks. Would love some. You don’t think anyone will approach me about Sean, do you?” She seems to address all of us.
“Probably not.” I move to stand and walk to the table where Anders is filling drinks.
“Can I just get the bottle, man?” I ask Anders. “It’s for Aspyn. She’s having a shit day.”
When he consents, I take a carafe of OJ and an entire bottle of champagne back to Beck’s table, and she beams brightly at me, which is worth the price of admission. Pouring her a mimosa with about 80% alcohol, I pass it to her, and Beck thanks me with a smile that sends a jolt through me.
Breakfast is served moments later, and I’m surprised when I see Beck, Ms. Animal Fat is Bad, grab a piece of bacon and crunch on it.
“You’re eating bacon?” I can’t help but question her.
“Well, yeah. Who do you think obsessed about my weight and my dress size for the last ten years? It wasn’t me. Eventually, I ended up giving up my favorite foods, so Sean wouldn’t have a hissy fit in public about what I ordered. I’ve always loved bacon.” She reaches for another piece, and I want to find Sean and punch him in his other fucking eye.
“I hate him,” Marissa says with her eyes narrow, and lips scrunched up with anger. “I can’t believe he tried to control what you ate! And I can’t believe Deacon tried to control who you should fuck. Do better, boys. She’s been with Sleazy Sean for ten years, and now she has all the time in the world to date around and see what kind of guy she wants to be with next. All I’m saying is, don’t interfere.”
I feel sufficiently lectured. “I think that’s enough goading about Beck’s sex life or lack of. We’ve established she’s an adult who can make her own decisions. I wasn’t trying to rain on her parade.”
“Sure, buddy.” Emmett rolls his eyes as if to say,believe whatever you want, man.
“It’s okay,” Beck insists. “Today, I realize I was wearing Beer Goggles last night, so we’ll just leave it in the past and move on. Shall we, everyone? Please?”
“Fine.” Emmett shrugs as everyone murmurs their agreement, and we dig into the delicious spread of food in front of us. I’m not much of a morning eater, but the French toast is decadent, so I can’t help but shovel it into my mouth.
Beck stays as briefly as she can, eating just enough breakfast to be polite before she announces, “I’ve got to get the hell out of here before people finish eating and come offer me their pity. I can see everyone staring already.” She darts her eyes around the room, and yeah, she’s got a point. Even Tara looks sad as she makes eye contact with Beck and gives her a little wave.
“I can take you home, if you want,” I volunteer.
“Thanks, but I have my Durango. I’ll be fine.”
“Call me if Sean gives you any trouble,” I tell her, standing up and taking her hand in mine. Beck waves to everyone with her other hand, and then we walk out to her Durango with her luggage.
Beck turns to me and says, “You didn’t have to push my suitcase or walk me out. And stop staring at me like I’m going to break at any time.”
Maybe I know her better than she knows herself, because she’s going to go home to the place she won’t share with Sean for much longer, and then she’s going to lose her mind. It might not happen right away, but eventually, I’ll be ready to be there when she finally cracks open and lets out all the grief she’s trying not to let consume her.
I hoist the bag into her backseat, slam the door, and open her driver’s side door with a flourish. “Your chariot awaits, milady,” I announce exaggeratedly.
“Thank you, kind sir.” Aspyn always plays along. That’s part of her charm. And she laughs at my awful accents.
“When the house gets too quiet, call me. I’ll come by.” I take her face in my hands, cupping each cheek with my palm, and I peer into her hazel eyes that look bright green in this light. Then, I kiss her forehead. “Focus on how much better life is going to get after this. Without Sean as your ball and chain, dragging you down, you can do anything you want. The future is limitless, waiting for you to make your move.”
She stares at me with eyes that hold doubt and fear. I stroke her cheek with my thumb.
“It’s true, Beck. There are far better things ahead of you than what you just left behind. I promise.”
Finally, I see hope re-emerge in her bright eyes, and I give as charming a smile as I can conjure. “Keep in touch, Beck.”
“Of course. You’re my bestie.” Aspyn steps into my embrace and lets me hold her tight, my hand on the back of her head as she sways against me. I hear her sniffle, but she ducks her head, gets into the car, and slams the door behind her. She doesn’t look at me again, just puts her hand up over her shoulder and waves at me as she drives off.
Marissa and Bear wheel their suitcases out to the parking lot just as I’m heading back in. I give Marissa a quick hug and say our goodbyes.
Soon enough, I leave too, winding my truck down the familiar streets that lead me home.
Home is a two-story Cape Cod with an additional two thousand feet added on, and it’s far bigger than what I need. When I bought it and subsequently hired the construction crew, I imagined a life of marriage, babies, and little feet running around the house and the yard. It’s my biggest dream. Not that it’s materialized yet, given my inability to commit for very long. I’m not a cheater; I just feel that itchy moment about three months in, where it’s not fun anymore, and conversation topics run dry.
And I’d rather just hang out with Beck.That, of course, usually becomes a problem in my relationships—explaining Aspyn. The anger women justifiably feel about being second. But as long as I’m friends with Beck, she’ll always have my first-place blue ribbon.
I turn on my video game console and waste the rest of Sunday getting my ass handed to me by tweens around America with potty mouths. I think some prepubescent boy just called me a ‘taint.’ What on Earth?
