by Lucy Score
“Alfie Cofax and Carson showed up at six a.m. and should be finished with the spraying by noon,” Hazel put in. John swiped a hand over his face and rubbed the back of his neck.
“There’s also a new deadbolt on your bedroom door after MacGyver here announced that he learned to pick your lock,” Michael said, jerking his thumb in Carter’s direction.
“Carter!” Phoebe gasped impressed and horrified.
He shrugged his shoulders, a move that was one hundred percent Phoebe. “Beckett locked me out once, an’ I didn’t like it.”
John, in a rare display of emotion, grabbed Elvira by the shoulders and placed a loud kiss on her mouth. The boys cackled when he repeated the same with Hazel and even Michael.
“Who wants one more game of Super Mario?” Michael asked, clapping his hands. He winked at his wife.
Hands shot up around the room, including John’s.
“Go play with your friends, Michael,” Hazel grinned.
Team Testosterone stampeded into the living room, and Phoebe sat down at the table. “I honestly don’t know what I’d do without all of you.”
“You’ll never have to find out,” Elvira promised, squeezing her hand and sliding the donuts closer.
“What’s this?” Phoebe asked, fingering the envelope on the table.
“It’s an application from Nordemann. She’s starting up some committee for the betterment of Blue Moon,” Hazel rolled her eyes.
“Calls it the Beautification Committee,” Elvira put in.
“Just what I need. One more responsibility,” Phoebe groaned. But in Blue Moon, civic duty was the law of the land. And there was no way she’d say no to the woman who cleaned up partially digested pie on her kitchen floor.
“It’s probably going to end up like Tupperware parties. Lots of gossip and wine and appetizers,” Elvira said. “I’m joining.”
“Well, that doesn’t sound too bad. And I could use a little time away from my army of adorable assholes. I mean, I love them more than anything in this universe, but sometimes I just want to drive away and never come back.”
Hazel laughed. “I know exactly how you feel. Sign me up for this Beautification thing.”
Elvira topped off everyone’s mugs.
“Phoebs, you’re doing a great job. Your boys are wonderful people. Wonderful people with terrible haircuts, but still. You and John are doing it right.” Hazel said, sipping her coffee. She wasn’t one to wear her feelings on her sleeve, which made the words even more powerful.
“Be proud. They’re going to grow into fine men,” Elvira predicted.
Chapter Twenty-Six
2004
One of Phoebe’s “fine men” was strutting around her kitchen like a peacock on a summer afternoon. Beckett had the look.
Her little boy was sixteen years old and enjoying his junior year of high school. She should have seen it coming. Especially when he asked to borrow her SUV last night.
Damn that Moon Beam Parker and her teenage breasts, Phoebe cursed.
Great. Now she had to add “sanitize the backseat” to her lengthy to do list in between bookkeeping clients.
Beckett picked up the coffee pot whistling cheerfully.
“What are you doing?” Phoebe demanded.
He shrugged. “Felt like coffee this morning.”
“You don’t drink coffee. You drink hot cocoa and soda and Gatorade.”
That Pierce smirk played upon his lips. Oh, hell. Was that a hickey on his neck?
“Does Dad need help today? I can give him a few hours before Carter takes me into town. I’m taking Moon Beam to the movies.”
She nodded, trying not to choke when he mentioned Moon Beam’s name. “That would be great.”
“Did you talk to Dad about your proposal?” Beckett asked, reaching for the pitcher of cream.
“Not yet. I want to go over it one more time.”
“Mom,” he laid a hand on her shoulder. “Sometimes you just have to pull the trigger. A farmer’s market in the park is a great idea, and the sooner you bring it up to Dad, the sooner we can get Mayor Nordemann to bring it up at a town meeting.”
Phoebe’s heart ached. Beckett was such a good, solid boy. He was as invested in Pierce Acres and Blue Moon as John was and for all the right reasons. He loved fiercely and dreamed big. And now her little boy was having sex. God, she wasn’t ready to go through this again. Carter at least had hidden it better. It had taken Phoebe nearly a week to pry the truth out of him.
Jackson, her baby, strolled through the door. At fourteen, he was still more boy than man. He was outgoing like she was but had an artistic side that reminded her so much of John. She’d caught him writing in notebooks this past summer. And just like his father, he’d refused to let her read anything he’d written.
At the moment, Phoebe wanted to hug him until he promised to never outgrow her.
“Morning, Ma,” he said, giving her a peck on her cheek and rummaging for fruity-o’s. Yes, she’d hang on to Jax as long as he’d let her and save him from the Moon Beam Parkers of the world.
John, dressed for a day in the fields, waltzed in next. “Morning, my brilliant wife.” He said, pressing a very non-platonic kiss on her mouth. Beckett hadn’t been the only Pierce enjoying the expression of biological urges last night.
Phoebe pointed at Beckett, her frown fierce.
John peered over her shoulder. What? he mouthed.
Phoebe circled her face with her finger and pointed at Beckett again.
John frowned, still missing it.
Phoebe tapped her own neck and again pointed in Beckett’s direction.
Beckett turned pouring a waterfall of sugar into his mug. “Morning, Pops.”
“Christ. Not him, too,” John sighed. “I feel like we just went through this with Carter.”
“Go talk to him,” she whispered through clenched teeth. She looked at Jax, shoveling in the fruity-o’s while reading the Sunday comics. “Both of them.”
It was a benefit of having boys, she supposed. John handled the bulk of the potty-training, teaching the boys the joy of pissing in nature or off the porch. And now he was stuck with the sex ed, too.
“What do you want me to say?” Her dear husband looked both proud and panicked.
“Condoms, respect, no means hell fucking no,” she ticked the items off on her fingers as she hissed at him.
“You sound more prepared. Maybe you should handle this—”
“Go!” Phoebe growled and softened it with a wink.
Beckett’s coffee, now a pale khaki color thanks to the gallon of cream he’d added, sloshed over the rim of his mug as John grabbed him by the back of the neck.
“Outside,” John muttered.
“What the hell, dad? I didn’t do anything.”
“Tell that to the hickey on your neck. You too, Jackson. Porch. Now.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Phoebe gave them all of ten seconds after the front door slammed behind them before sneaking to the open living room window. She wanted to make sure John hit all the points so she wouldn’t have to do a follow-up lecture like the one that had embarrassed the hell out of Carter.
She curled into the worn sofa and pressed her face against the back cushion, listening.
“So, you and Moon Beam Parker,” John began.
“H-how did you know?” Beckett stuttered.
Phoebe smiled. Her boys thought she and John were psychic half the time. The lovable idiots just didn’t realize how transparent they were. Thank God she hadn’t raised sneaky teenage girls like she had been. She’d raised boys who were so bad at lying she knew it was false before the words tumbled out of their mouths.
“Jesus, Beckett. You’re strutting around like a prize-winning hog. An idiot could tell you had sex last night.”
“You had sex with Moon Beam Parker?” Jax asked, awed.
Phoebe heard the resounding slap of a high-five and grit
ted her teeth together. Men were idiots, she decided.
“Don’t be an asshole,” John said. Phoebe heard a different smack and knew John had just cuffed Beckett on the back of the head.
“Ouch! Geez, Dad!”
John sighed. “Let’s start with the basics, and then we’ll work our way up to why a high-five over sex makes you an asshole. Did you use a condom?”
“Of course, Dad. And she’s on the pill, too.”
Phoebe peered through the screen and saw John holding up a hand. Her poor husband. Even though he was a life-long Blue Mooner, he still operated under the misconstrued assumption that people deserved their privacy. “Are you two dating?” he asked.
Beckett nodded, his expression dreamy. “I think I love her, Dad.”
Jax made barfing sounds. Given his track record of binging on sugary snacks until his body rejected everything, Phoebe looked to make sure he was just joking and not spewing fruity-o’s on the porch she’d swept off just that morning.
Beckett in love with Moon Beam? If that was love, then Phoebe would shave her head and change her name to Mrs. Clean. He didn’t know what love was yet. And she bet money that Moon Beam would not be Mrs. Beckett Pierce in however many years it took her son to finish that law degree he was already talking about.
John cleared his throat. “Well, son, I’m glad to hear that you have strong feelings for her,” he said diplomatically. “Sex is this great thing—”
“You don’t have to tell me,” Beckett grinned, happy to finally be part of the club.
Phoebe rolled her eyes heavenward.
“Shut up,” John sighed. “Sex between two people who care about each other is the best sex there is. Don’t waste your time when you don’t have feelings because it’ll never compare.”
Phoebe nodded, approving his point.
“So, it’s better with someone you like?” Jax asked, frowning.
“Okay, it’s like this,” John said, swiping a hand over his mouth.
Phoebe felt a sliver of guilt. She should have at least let him have some coffee before pushing him into The Talk.
“You know how peanut butter brownie explosion is your favorite ice cream?”
Jax nodded enthusiastically, his expression now close to Beckett’s post-virginity-loss awe. “Oh, yeah.”
“Well, imagine instead of going for peanut butter brownie explosion you go for mint chocolate chip.”
“Why would I do that?” Jax asked, clearly confounded.
“Well, that’s my point. When you know what’s best, don’t waste your time fooling around with women or ice cream that you don’t really like.”
“Very sage, Dad,” Beckett snorted.
“So, you did two things right,” John said, shifting the conversation back to Beckett. “You used protection, and you care about the girl.”
Beckett preened.
“But that’s like saying, you’re ready to drive a car just because you know which pedal’s the brake and which is the gas. There’s a lot more to it. Consent.”
Beckett’s face lost every ounce of color. “Jesus, Dad! You don’t think I’d—”
“Relax, son. No, I don’t think you’d ever do that. You’re a good man. But it still deserves discussing.”
“Do what?” Jax demanded, confused.
Beckett turned to his brother. “Never, ever, ever, coerce a woman into sex. Or I will show up on your doorstep and kick your ass before murdering you.”
John nodded approvingly.
“Jeez!” Jax winced. “Why would anyone do that? Coerce, I mean.”
“Some people are assholes,” Beckett said. “That’s what Carter told me, Dad. The condoms were from his stash, but he made me promise to be respectful—as if I wouldn’t be,” Beckett scoffed.
Phoebe hugged a pillow into her chest. Carter, eighteen and preparing for the Army after graduation, had absorbed enough of those lessons to pass them on to his brother. They were doing something right.
“Now, Beckett. I know you, and I know your brothers. I know none of you would ever force a woman to do anything she’s not one hundred percent excited about.”
Jackson snickered. “Sorry. I was just picturing you trying to coerce Mom into anything.”
Phoebe grinned to herself.
“That’s exactly the kind of woman… or man—no judgment—that I hope you each end up with. Your mother is a strong, smart, incredible woman who is brave enough to stand up for herself and others. What I worry about for you boys is running across someone who isn’t as, shall we say ‘vocal,’ in her opinions or firm with their boundaries.”
“What are you trying to say, Dad?” Jax asked.
Beckett was frowning too.
“Jesus, I wish I had some coffee in me,” John muttered to himself. “Alright. Let’s go back to the ice cream. Beckett, say you call up Moon Beam and ask her to go for ice cream.”
“Sure. Okay. Can I borrow Mom’s car?”
“Focus, son. So, you call her up, she says yes to ice cream. But then she calls you back and says she’s changed her mind.”
“Why would she do that?” Jax asked, devastated at the possibility.
John gave a short laugh. “I can’t believe this is how I’m spending my Saturday morning. No one knows why she changed her mind, and the point is it doesn’t matter why. It means her answer is now no. So, should Beckett show up to her house and drag her into the car and force her to go for ice cream?”
“No, but I think he should swing her by the doctor’s if she’s saying no to ice cream.”
Beckett punched his brother in the shoulder. “Ice cream is sex, man. Keep up.”
“Oh. No wonder I like it so much,” Jax grinned.
“If I get through this without decking you both, it’ll be a miracle,” John sighed. His sons grinned at him, unaffected by the threat.
“Okay. Back to the ice cream sex,” Jax said. “If Moon Beam says no to ice cream sex, then it would be dickish if Beckett tried to force her to go for ice cream sex.”
“Exactly,” John nodded. “Dickish and illegal. Even if she said yes first, that doesn’t matter, and if I ever hear of one of you throwing that excuse in someone’s face, I’ll kick your ass before I murder you.”
“Got it,” Beckett saluted
“Okay, now let’s fast forward a few years. Say you’re with a girl at a party, and she says yes. You go someplace private, and she falls asleep or she’s had too much to drink and passes out. What do you do?”
“Well, you sure as hell don’t give her ice cream. She could choke on it and die or something,” Jax reasoned.
“Sex, dummy. He’s still talking about sex.”
“I know that. It’s the same thing. Why would you feed a passed-out girl ice cream is the same as why would you try to have sex with her.”
“Good boy,” John nodded. “To recap, she needs to feel safe enough to say yes, to be physically capable of saying yes, and if she changes her mind for any reason, you respect that or the ass-kicking and murdering happen.
Beckett saluted. “Got it, Dad. We won’t let you down.”
“I know you two won’t. You boys are turning out to be a lot smarter and more thoughtful than I was at your age. Now, do we need to talk about the mechanics of how to make sure you’re doing it well?”
Beckett’s grin split his face. “No, sir. I think I got that part down. There were no complaints last night. Carter says, ‘Your focus should always be on the girl and making her feel good.’” His spot-on impression of his older brother made Phoebe smile.
“And that’s why high-fiving over sex is immature. A woman isn’t a touchdown or a solid burn on your buddy. If anything, you should fall down and kiss her feet in gratitude,” John said.
“Is that what you do to Mom?” Jax asked like the true smart ass he was.
“You’re damn right I do,” John told him without a hint of shame. “Right before I start apologizing for giving her
three thick-headed boys.”
Jax grinned.
“Sex is just like everything else worthwhile in this world. It’s about having a healthy respect. It’s a big deal, and it sounds like you did everything right, Beckett. So, congratulations, son.” He held out his hand to Beckett who shook it and beamed like a lighthouse beacon.
“Thanks, Dad.”
“Make sure you keep making the right choices. And Jax, when the time comes for you, I want you to remember all this.”
“Ice cream,” Jax nodded.
Phoebe peeked through the window and saw the Jeep wheel into the driveway. The stereo was blaring ’80s rock, and Carter, their oldest, hopped out looking handsome and entirely too grown up. He hauled his camping gear out of the back and climbed the porch. One look at Beckett’s face had him grinning.
“Well, well, well, little brother’s not so little anymore,” he said.
“How can you tell? Do you think everyone at school will be able to tell?” Beckett demanded.
“If you keep prancing around with that shit-eating grin on your face, I think even the lunch ladies will know,” Carter said, slipping his sunglasses into the neck of his t-shirt.
“Dad just gave us the talk,” Jax announced.
Carter ruffled his youngest brother’s hair. “Did he go with ice cream?” he asked, and they all laughed.
Phoebe’s heart was full. They were raising good men. And how could they not turn out that way? With John Pierce as their living, breathing example. The man was a miracle to her each and every day and so were her boys.
“Now, let’s talk about vehicles,” John began. “Beckett, you’re going to detail the interior and anywhere else naked body parts touched before your mom drives her car anywhere, and then we’re going to break into your savings and go find you something to drive.”
