Page 35 of Dibs
“He’s lonely,” Beck realizes as she watches him leave. “Maybe we should come back tomorrow night and bring him dinner. I can make him my famous chicken pot pie.”
I look over at Beck, who appears lost in thought. “That would be sweet of you, doll face.”
When we get back to the house, she defrosts chicken in cool water in the sink and busies herself making enough chicken pot pie for all of us. She makes the filling separate and then announces, “I’ll do the pie crusts tomorrow when I get home from work. I’m exhausted.”
It's nearly eleven already, so I tell her, “Yeah, it’s late, babe. You should get some rest. And you might want to take that big rock off your finger, so you don’t scratch up your face tonight.”
Beck walks into the living room and leans in to give me a kiss on the forehead. My heart flutters the same way it always does when her lips are anywhere near me. I say goodnight to Beck, wishing she were headed to my room so I could hold her in my arms until she falls asleep. But she takes the stairs to her bedroom, and I watch the light go out a few minutes later.
It's all right. I’m playing the long game—the really, really,reallylong game.
I click off the TV, a sigh escaping my lips when my team lost. A dull ache settles in my chest as I sink into the comfort of my bed, my sheets cool around me. They bring me no comfort. All I can think about is how much extra room I have in this king-sized bed; I long for the woman who should be curled up against my side. God, I hope there are happier times ahead. A time when Beck accepts the love I have always tried to offer her.
I imagine Dad feels a bit like I do tonight, and that’s why he’s chosen to sell our childhood home. A place filled with the lingering ghosts of years past instead of the sound of laughter and family. I understand it now. Houses are meant to be filled with life, not just the ache of fading memories.
The darkness pulls in around me, my breath the only sound in the room, and I whisper a little prayer for Dad—that he finds his footing in a new space, one of peace, where he can move forward. We all need that new beginning, no one more than me.
A nervous flutter goes through me as I wonder about the next steps. I know what I want, and I’m ready to step into the future, but what about Beck? How much longer would she need to heal before she’s ready to admit what’s always been there between us?
19
ASPYN
The following day brings a cold front and more rain, and my mood is downright gloomy. I show up to work in sweats and one of Deacon’s hoodies, and I have the entire day blocked off to catch up on my client notes.
I also need to come up with an invitation for a Friendsgiving at my workplace for those with nowhere else to go this coming Thanksgiving. I usually spend the holidays with Sean’s family, so I don’t know where I’ll end up celebrating this year. I imagine Deacon will wrangle an invitation for me to his family shindig, if it’s even happening this year. Lillian had always led the Thanksgiving celebration at the house, so unless one of her daughters-in-law decided to take over, the event might not happen.
My phone rings at noon, and I reach for it. “Thrive Counseling Services. This is Aspyn; how may I be of service?”
I parrot my usual line, and Mom’s warm voice comes over the phone. “Hey there, honey!”
“Mom, what are you doing calling me at 4 a.m. your time?” I ask, kicking my feet up on the desk.
“My dear, menopause is full of delightful surprises like random 3 a.m. wake-up calls. While I’m up, I figure I should talk to my long-lost daughter. It’s been a while, hasn’t it? Which is my fault, of course.” Mom easily takes the blame.
“Well, I haven’t called either. I’m…” I trail off, but Mom can already hear it in my tone.
“What’s the matter, darling?”
I let out a long sigh. “We broke up, Mom. A while ago, but I didn’t know how to tell you. You had such high hopes for us.” Tears pool in my eyes as I imagine the look of disappointment on Mom’s face. “But he did some unforgivable things, and I couldn’t have lived with myself if I stayed and looked like a naïve fool.”
“Oh, no. What on earth happened? I thought I was leaving you in capable hands. Doctor’s hands, for god’s sake,” Mom replies, her voice low and concerned.
“The doctor liked to put his hands on other women,” is all I can think to say, and I hear Mom’s gasp on the other side of the line. “Quite a few people suspected him of cheating throughout the relationship, but I didn’t get any proof until the night before Tara’s wedding.”
“What scum!”
“Yeah.” Silence descends. Words fail.
“Do you want me to come home, honey?” Mom asks after a brief quiet.
“No! Of course not, Mom, I’ll be thirty soon. I can’t ask you to uproot your life to comfort me after a break-up. But I’m not back at the mountain house, and I don’t think I want to be in that big house all by myself, so I’m staying with Deacon in the meantime.”
“He’s always been such a good boy.” Mom’s praise sounds like she’s speaking of a dog, but I’ll take it. “He’s a nice, responsible man. I’ve always liked him.”
“Me too. He’s good to me.”
We fall silent again.
