“Yes, I’ll stay put.” I wipe my tears. He’s right. Besides, I don’t think I can do this tonight.
“Oh, Becs ... baby, I’m so very proud of you. This is a huge step for you, and it means so much to me that you would do this for us.” I can actually hear the pride in his voice.
“I love you, Ray. I love you so much. Thank you for loving me even though I put you through hell all these years.” I wish I could feel his arms around me.
“It was all worth it, baby. I love you. Now get to bed.”
“Okay. G’night, sweetie.”
“Good night, baby.”
I break the news to Morgan, happy with her indifferent attitude about it. We head down the hall to the guest room and get ourselves situated. Ray was right. I’m bone-tired as it is. I would’ve been an extra mess tonight. I grab my phone to send him one final text before turning in.
December 31, 2012 12:35 a.m.
Me: A theme song to keep your spirits “up.” Love Game—Lady Gaga.
I plug my phone in beside me on the nightstand and turn the light off. I lie in the dark, listening to Morgan breathe. She’s already fallen asleep. It’s been almost six years since I’ve been back to our house. Well, physically at least. Maybe the fact that I spent over a month there with Grayson will help me with the emotional battle I feel coming. My phone pings and the screen lights up.
December 31, 2012 12:47 a.m.
Ray: Just listened to the theme song and things are definitely looking “up.” You’re not making it easy to stay away, babe. ;-p G’night.
Me: Thinking about that kink you banged out for me today! :-o
Ray: It’s all about the angle and the pressure ...
Me: The size of the tool ...
Ray: The power behind the tool to stretch the area that needs kinks banged out of it.
Me: Sometimes the effects of a large, powerful tool can still be noticed long after the job is done.
Ray: Well the use of a good, large power tool should be very evident afterward, otherwise the client may not want to use it again.
Me: Well, I see this client being a lifetime loyal customer of this said power tool. It knows how to give me a good bang for my buck.
Ray: This power tool loves how you buck to its bang!
Ray: Point goes to Becca James. McNeil throws in the towel, fearing his power tool may get so large, it stretches 3,000 miles to try to bang the buck out of Ms. James!!!
Me: Good thing. Power tool would need a raincoat and galoshes. It’s a wet one out here!
Ray: Power tool is waterproof and even comes with a lube dispenser feature to keep areas that should be wet always wet.
Me: Point to McNeil. Becca James cannot continue. She’s aching with kinks and has no substitute power tools in her possession. Manual labor is a no go since her daughter is sharing her bed!
Ray: Just got a mental image of you touching yourself. Power tool’s lube dispenser just malfunctioned!
Me: Clean up spill in aisle ahem?
Ray: More like oh ... oh ... oh ... shit!
Me: LOL! Seriously just woke Morgan up!
Ray: Becs?
Me: Rays?
He doesn’t answer. There are no dots telling me he’s texting.
Me: I won’t forget that I love you. I promise.
Ray: How can you do that from 3,000 miles away?
Me: I know you. You’ve been my best friend for over five years and shh ... my secret lova. ;-p
Ray: So secret ... you didn’t even know!
Me: Seriously, not to prevent you from fitting your head through a door, but it’s been 12 hrs. since we’ve had sex. HOW COULD I NOT KNOW SOMETHING WAS UP?!
Ray: Literally up! Hee hee! Um, well, you knew something was going on, because you asked Stacey if she ever woke up feeling like she’d had sex.
Me: I did? What did she say?
Ray: She said yes. The morning after having sex.
Me: Well, that was helpful! Did I talk to you about it?
Ray: Uh ... no. Thank God! I don’t think I would’ve kept a straight face! Becs, it’s late, baby.
Go to bed.
Me: You wouldn’t be saying that if I was there!
Ray: Yeah, well, you’re not here, are you?
Me: Ray?
Ray: Sorry. I love you, baby. Go to sleep.
Me: G’night.
Ray: XXXXX
I put my phone back down and close my eyes. It’s not a very restful sleep. Every time I drift off, I either dream about Grayson telling me what not to throw out or Ray begging me not to forget him.
“Wakey friggin’ wakey, lady!” Stacey walks into the room, shouting. If I were suffering from a hangover, I would be tempted to throw something at her. I look at my phone. Eight a.m. Jesus, I feel like I finally just fell into a good sleep.
“Geez, you’re early!” I sigh as I sit up and rub my face, trying to stir some life into my body.
“Yeah, I was on a five a.m. flight this morning, you impulsive, crazy bitch!” She smacks my leg.
“Sorry. Thank you for coming.”
“I can’t believe you were going to do this by yourself! Ray was a hot mess last night. Becca, honestly, you better stop putting that man on the back burner!” She shakes her head.
“That’s why I’m here, Stace!” I bite, feeling tired and grumpy.
“Oh, this is going to be fun. Two cranky pregnant ladies who know how to push each other’s buttons!” Sarcasm is her strong suit, as well.
“Well, let’s go get some breakfast in us. That might help.” I smile as I stand up.
“Becca.” Stacey’s chin quivers, and I know exactly why. I hug her.
“I’m okay.” I rock her back and forth. This is the first time we’ve seen each other since I came out of the coma.
“I could’ve killed Ray for not paying attention! Christ, if I lost you, I don’t know what I would’ve done!” she says angrily.
“Well, it wasn’t just his fault. C’mon, let me get dressed. I’ll be out there in a minute.” I pat her arm.
“Yes, please hurry, because if I have to hear that skinny bitch go on about how she can’t gain weight any longer, I think I may drop-kick her ass!” she says quietly.
“Stop!” I laugh and head into the bathroom.
“Ready?” Stacey looks over at me as we head through the gates to my ranch. Ranchion—ranch-mansion—is what she’s always called it.
“Yeah.” I’m barely audible. I pick up my phone and hit Ray’s number. I haven’t talked to him yet, and it’s already one p.m. on the East Coast.
“Hey, baby.” His greeting is soft and calm.
“Hi. I’m sorry I haven’t called.” Not very considerate, given his insecurities.
“It’s okay, babe. Are you at your house now?” I hear him shuffling stuff around.
“Yeah, just got here. Where are you?”
“Work,” he sighs.
“Oh, okay. Well, why don’t you call me when you’re done for the day?” I get out of the car and search my purse for my keys.
“Okay. Good luck today. I’ll talk to you later.”
I feel like I’m being pushed off the phone. He must really be busy.
“Okay. Love you.” I kiss into the receiver.
“Me, too. Bye, babe.” He hangs up. Me, too? Um. Okay.
“Ready?” Stacey gestures to the door. I put the key in, turn it, and take a deep breath before I open the door.
“C’mon, Mom,” Morgan says impatiently, pushing past me. “I want to check out my room,” she adds, and runs down the hall. I stand in the foyer, staring down the hall. I’m hit with the calmness of the creamy yellow, faux-textured walls and dark wood. Gosh, my taste hasn’t changed much. I’ve always liked antique, rich-looking things, and colors that complement.
“This still looks relevant, doesn’t it?” I ask Stacey as I spin slowly.
“You know, Bec, it totally does. You put a lot of time into this house, and balanced it well enough to keep it in style
for a long time.” She looks around admiringly.
“Well, I guess I’ll bring my stuff to my room.” I take in a deep, mindful yoga breath and start to roll my bag down the hall. I open the door to our bedroom and am greeted by the comfort of it. This room is quite different from the rest of the house. Grayson had no problem with allowing me to keep the appearance soft as long as it wasn’t frilly. He was very pleased with the cream-colored, coffered ceiling and the sage on the panels between the wood. Another green, just a shade lighter, covers the walls, outlined again by creamy wood. Distressed cream furniture and wrought-iron décor, frames, drapes, and bedding all blended with nature’s calming colors keep this room securely on the fine line of masculine and feminine.
Yes, he was very pleased and impressed. It was a little off from our “norm” in the décor department, and yet so very us. I still love it seven years later. I feel, though, as if I were really here a little over a month ago. I head over to the walk-in closet on my left. Slowly I hit the light switch and open the door.
Once inside, I lose my breath a bit. His clothes all hang the same way, in the same places. I drop my bag’s handle and wrap my arms around as many suits as I can, pulling them to me. I just let myself feel what I need to feel. His blue sweater, the thin one—the one he always looked so delicious in. I search the drawers and find it. I hug the material to my chest, burying my face in it. I smell it, trying to catch the essence. Gone. Like him. I go into his top drawer, pull out his cologne, and spray it. The chemistry has changed a bit in seven years, but still, I can smell him. I miss his scent. I walk down to my end of the closet. Well, I won’t be fitting my fat ass in those anytime soon! Where would I wear those gowns anyway ... Ashland’s town social? Gosh, my life is so different now—not that Grayson and I were the flashy sort. These gowns were for fundraiser events and weddings. We mostly stayed under the radar.
“Hey, how are you doing in here?” Stacey startles me. She and Morgan are there, staring at me like they expect me to go ballistic. I smile slightly.
“What is that smell?” Morgan asks, walking in further.
“That is Eau de Grayson.” Stacey smiles.
“That’s Daddy’s scent. Well, mostly.” I sigh and offer her the bottle. “What did you find in your bedroom?” I put my arm around her shoulders as we head out.
“It’s so girly and cute.” She smiles.
“Do you want to redecorate it while we’re here?” I ask.
“Becca, aren’t you selling?” Stacey looks at me quizzically.
“No. Why would I sell this place?” Does she have five heads?
“Bec, that’s what Ray told me you were doing. He thinks that’s the main reason you are here, to get it market-ready.” She picks up a picture of Grayson, Morgan, and me.
“I never told him I was doing that. This is our home. If nothing else, it’s Morgan’s.” I sit on the backless lounge sofa in front of my bed.
“This will be my house, Mommy?” Morgan smiles as she sits next to me.
“Yep!” I slap her leg lightly.
“Bec, does he know about the house in London?” Her eyes go wide. I shake my head. “Oh, Lucy ... you gonna have some esplainin’ to do!” She shakes her head. Great—another notch on my “Lucy” belt!
“Well, I’m gonna have to esplain another time. Who’s up for home movies?” I ask, standing up.
“Are you sure, Bec? You haven’t watched them since before ...” She trails off.
“Well, then, I guess we better make some popcorn and settle in. I need to do it, Stace. Morgy needs to see her dad and hear his voice. Pictures can only do so much.” I hold my hand out to Morgan. She jumps up to take it and the three of us head to the kitchen.
We gather a few drinks and what snacks we can find. I’ll need to add grocery shopping to my to-do list! If Susanna had any idea we were coming, this kitchen would’ve been fully stocked with all of our favorites.
“Go ahead, Morgy. Mommy and I will be right there,” Stacey tells Morgan as she pulls me back by my arm. Morgan shrugs and heads off with most of the goods. Stacey takes in a deep breath of apprehension. Holy shit! Here stands my best friend with a very uncomfortable filter in place.
“Shit, Stace, how much did that surgery set you back?” I laugh a little, still shocked at the sight.
“What surgery?”
“The one that inserted that filter you suddenly seem to have.”
“Oh, shut up!” She smacks my arm and exhales with frustration. “Becca, Ray and I have been talking a lot the past few months,” she starts, and I get visions of her behavior in my subconscious. Apparently, this translates across my face, because she smacks me again. “Oh, knock it off! I’m not going all Lavina on your ass! I still can’t believe you turned me into her during your coma!”
“Hey, somebody’s gotta play the crazy bitch, and let’s be honest—you’re the craziest bitch I know!” I laugh.
“Yeah, but I’m not crazy like that bitch!” she adds. “Bec, getting back to Ray, please.” She puts her drink down on the counter and crosses her arms.
“Yeah, what’s up?” I echo her movement and redo my pony-bun.
“He, uh ... well, you know he’s a proud man,” she starts.
“Ha! Don’t I?” I snort.
“Well, he was quite taken aback when he sorted through your finances to keep up with your bills and payroll. He had no idea that Grayson had left you so comfortable. None of us did, really. I always knew you used it to buy the inn and then socked some away for Morgan, but I never knew how much it was. Well, needless to say, Ray was already feeling like he could never give you the things Grayson could—”
“But, Stace,” I cut her off. “You know that Grayson and I were not flashy. I never thought about how much money we had!”
“Yes, I know, and I told Ray that, but it didn’t help much. Last night it really hit him hard. It started with the talk of renovations, really. Bec, he doesn’t want you to know, but his firm is hurting.”
“Yes, I know. I overheard him asking to borrow money from Artie. He doesn’t know I know.” I pull up a chair. Stacey decides to do the same.
“He’s been putting money aside the past few years to do the renovations for you. With you in the hospital and not wanting to leave your side, he used the money to keep the firm afloat.” She winces. She must know my heart is sinking. I think back to Grayson’s “conversation” with Ray, which I didn’t realize I was witnessing at the time. Very bizarre. Ray talked about putting half a million into the firm to start my renovations.
“Jesus!” I place my head into my hands.
“It about killed him to tell you he couldn’t do the renovations right now, and when you told him Grayson was paying for it, it was like a—”
“Slap in the face and a stomp on his pride,” I interject.
“Basically. And he noticed you were wearing a bracelet from Grayson. That didn’t help.” She points to it. I circle it around my wrist. “He had no idea you had this house still. He thinks you’re here to flush Grayson out of your system as best as you can. Maybe flushing is not a good word.”
“I know what you mean.”
“You need to tell him that you’re not selling, and you need to tell him about London. The longer you wait, the worse it will get.”
“I’ll talk to him tonight,” I say, defeated. “C’mon, Morgy’s waiting.” I get up. Stacey and I head down to the family room. Morgan’s on the couch, looking at the photo albums I left behind.
“Hey, Mama, why did you leave these here?” she asks.
“Well, sweetie, honestly, I didn’t think it would take me six years to come back here.” I sit and look at them with her. I should’ve sent for these! Geez—it’s like I pretended in some way that I didn’t have this whole other life before I moved to New Hampshire. “Ready to watch our videos?” I ask, and head over to the drawers below the built-in bookcases.
“You and Daddy have lots of books, Mom. Did you guys read all of these?” she asks.
“Yes, we did. Well, most of them are Daddy’s. He did a lot of reading to grasp new ideas, learn about different cultures, different careers, and so on.” I grab the first video.
“Research?”
“Yes. You know, Morgy, there are so many fascinating things in the world. Your education doesn’t stop once you get a diploma or a degree. There’s always something new to learn. Daddy loved to discover the most unique information and share it with people in his books.” An image of Grayson in his Clark Kents with a pencil in his mouth, searching through a book, flashes in my mind. He was always engaging his brain with new wonders. I never knew what he was going to bring home from the bookstore or the library.
“Earth to Becca!” Stacey waves her arms in front of me.
“Sorry, I was remembering Grayson researching.” I smile and throw the first DVD in.
“Am I in this one?” Morgan asks.
“No, babe. This is our wedding video.”
“Cool! Hey, that’s here! You got married here, Mommy?” She points to the flat-screen.
“Yep, this house holds a lot of my most wonderful memories.” I put my arm around her. Grayson’s favorite memories were here, too—that’s why he brought me back.
“Look how young you were, Mommy! You looked so pretty!” She smiles up at me. It seems like a lifetime ago. “Look how tall Daddy is!”
“And so very handsome.” I smile then giggle as Grayson pretends to run for it. Derek pushes him back, shaking a finger at him. God, we were so young! I was barely twenty-three; Grayson only twenty-six. His age always shocked his readers.
“How did you and Daddy meet again?” Morgan grabs a package of pretzels.
“I worked part-time at a Barnes & Noble. He had a signing at my store.” I bite my lip and chuckle to myself.
“Was it love at first sight?” She looks at me dreamingly.
“More like irritation at first sight.” Stacey says and laughs. We shared an apartment back then. Stacey had to endure countless hours of me ranting on about what a pompous ass he was.
“Your father, being quite the looker and with charm to boot, was pretty used to being able to date whomever he wanted.” Stacey tries to explain it the best she can to an almost-eleven-year-old. “Your mother thought he was very full of himself and wasn’t shy about telling him so. Your father found this fascinating, and therefore drove your mother crazy!” She grabs some pretzels.
Goodbye Uncertainty Page 9
