Goodbye Uncertainty

by Jacquelyn Ayres

  “But what does that have to do—”

  “Um, she said that while I was drinking,” I say, cutting her off. “Well, I don’t know if they’ll have to share me. Ray’s being an asshole again. Did you tell him I’m not selling?” I put the milk and cheese away.

  “No. Maybe Derek,” she offers.

  “Stace, he’s been a fucking switch, flipping on and off since I woke up.” My nostrils flare.

  “Bec, he’s just scared. In all honesty, he’s out of his element,” she adds, throwing pasta in a random cabinet.

  “Uh, the pantry is through this door.” I take the pasta back out and bring it to the pantry. “What do you mean he’s out of his element?” I say, my voice a bit louder.

  “Here.” She hands me another box and some sauce. “Becca, he’s used to dealing with ‘Lucy.’ He’s used to fighting for you. I don’t think he knows how to handle you being on permanently.”

  I stare at the shelves, giving her opinion some deep consideration.

  “Stace, maybe now that the chase is gone ... maybe his interest is, too, and he’s just figuring it out.” My biggest fear.

  “Uh, no—he’s very interested! I’m telling ya, he’s just insecure. He feels like he’s competing with all of this.” She waves around as we head back into the kitchen. “And at a time where he’s not doing so hot financially.”

  “Um, because of me!” I mention. She shrugs. “I don’t know how to help him with this.” I sit, feeling defeated, and spin the napkin holder around.

  “Just be patient with him. He’s given you a lot of himself over the years. Oh, but don’t let him treat you like shit, though.” She points a spatula at me.

  “Grilled cheeses?” I perk up.

  “Yep.”

  “Yay!” I get up to help. I’m starving!

  “Becca!” Derek calls out.

  “In here!” I yell as I wash the dishes from lunch. So much for that nap I was going to take.

  “Hey, where’s Stacey?” Derek kisses my cheek when he steps into the kitchen.

  “Just went for a nap.” I turn the faucet off and dry my hands, turning around.

  “How are things going?” he asks cautiously.

  “Um, okay. It’s been a bit emotional, but I think it’s a lot better than what it would’ve been if I didn’t just spend three months with him.” I cross my arms and lean against the counter. “Derek?” I crook my head sideways.

  “Yeah, Bec?” He leans as well.

  “Did you tell Ray I’m not selling?”

  “Well, yeah. He thought you were, and I corrected him. Was I wrong to do so? Are you selling?” He either knows or can sense we had a bit of an argument.

  “No, I’m not. It wasn’t even a thought.” I shake my head.

  “I didn’t think so.”

  “Do me a favor?” I close my eyes for a quick moment. “Unless you already have, please don’t tell Ray about our house in London.” Derek’s face tells me it’s too late. “Oh, no! No! No! No!” I practically whine and do actually stomp my foot.

  “Sorry, Becs.” He shrugs and seems to feel bad about his big mouth.

  “When and why did you tell him?” I’m trying not to yell, but I am extremely irritated.

  “We were talking this morning, right after you left. He asked me if I was going to help you find a good realtor. That’s when I told him you had no plans to sell, at least that I knew of. And I said I didn’t think you were selling the London home, either. I didn’t realize he didn’t know. Why are you trying to keep it a secret from him?” He grabs a beer from the fridge.

  “What did he say when you mentioned London?” I ask before I answer him.

  “He just said, ‘London, huh?’” He pops the cap off and throws it into the sink.

  “Dude! What the hell? Now I now you’ve been hanging out with Ray!” I grab the cap and toss it in the trash. Ray does the same thing. Drives me fucking nuts!

  “Yeah ... back atcha, dude,” he teases me.

  “Did you at least explain that London is Grayson’s family home? It has my name on it, but it belongs to Hazel, as well.” I’m so frustrated. This wouldn’t be such a big deal if Ray wasn’t so proud to the ridiculous level of King of the Alpha Males. It’s hot and annoying all at once!

  “Yeah, I did, actually,” Derek says thoughtfully.

  “Well, good, that hopefully lessened the blow.” I sigh as I sit and hold my head in my hands.

  “Becs, what’s going on with him? Why do you want to keep this from him?” He sits on the other side of the round table. Suddenly, thoughts of Susanna’s Greek omelet come to mind. When is she coming back? “Becca?” Derek snaps his fingers in front of my face.

  “Sorry, D.” I snap out of it. “I think it’s safe to say that my ADD has been unaffected by the coma.” I laugh a little and shake my head. “Um, to answer your question, Ray never knew about any of this. He didn’t know I still had these homes, and as you know, he wasn’t aware that Grayson left me very comfortable.”

  “Yeah, no one knew, Becs. You never talked about it. I was kinda pissed at Gray when I saw how much you were working to stay—so I thought—afloat.” His frustration with me becomes very evident.

  “Derek, that was me having denial issues with Gray’s passing. I kept thinking he was going to come back. That was ... it’s his money. The realistic side of me was keeping it for Morgan,” I try to explain.

  “Becca, Grayson would have your ass for thinking that way!” Derek raises his voice at me—a first in the thirteen years I’ve known him.

  “Oh, believe me, he did!” I bite back. A slow smirk crosses my lips when my thoughts go from the figurative sense to the literal.

  “What?” Derek asks.

  “Oh, nothing.” I wipe my expression clear. “Grayson screamed his bloody head off at me for it, Derek. I had to promise I would do the renovations and a whole list of things.” I rub my face and sit back, crossing my legs.

  “So, now, what’s going on with Ray?” He grabs the bag of chips we left on the counter and starts eating them.

  “Ray is fighting the great internal battle.” I roll my eyes.

  “Okay, now let’s try that in English.” Derek pops another chip into his mouth.

  “Ray has been taking care of me—as much as I’d let him—for five years. Whenever the inn needed repairs, he took care of them. When we went away to Maine or anywhere else, he paid for it. Ray has always done okay financially, but when I was in the hospital, he dropped everything. He didn’t bring in any new projects and ran out of money. So now he’s strapped, which is making him insecure. He’s always been competing with Grayson for my love, but now you throw in all of this,” I wave around, “and now it’s like he has to compete with him over who takes care of me, too. He’s a very proud man, Derek. He wants to take care of everything. Be the one I depend on. He wanted to do the renovations for me. It was supposed to be a surprise—a gift, if you will—and I come in asking for all these things he now has no money for, and I tell him Grayson said he was paying for it. He’s just ... he’s having a tough time with it all. So, he’s been short with me. That’s why I didn’t want him to know about the London house. I thought it might send him over the top.” I take a deep breath and sigh.

  “You know, Becca,” he shakes a finger slightly, as if it’s pushing his idea along, “let me talk to Ray. I think I may be able to help here.” He rolls up the bag of chips and tosses it back onto the counter. “Everything is going to be fine, love.” He chucks my chin, then stands and pulls me up with him. “You look tired. Go take a nap.”

  “You’re a great friend, Derek. I love you.” I give him a big hug. He clears his throat a bit, like he’s uncomfortable.

  “I love you, too, Becca.” He finally says it.

  “Ugh—Grayson!” I gasp.

  “Wha ...” Derek lets go of me quickly and turns around, panic in his voice. He turns back to find me in hysterics. “You are an evil woman!” he snaps.

  “I’m sorr
y. It was an opportunity I couldn’t pass up!” I laugh. Just then, his phone pings with a text. “I’m sure that’s Grayson.” I laugh again.

  “Ugh—you are so frustrating!” Derek’s English accent is extra thick at this accusation. I rub and pat his back. I’m sure Grayson would get a kick out of this. “It’s Ray.” He looks from his phone to me.

  “What did he say?” I look down to his phone.

  “He needs to talk. Go for a nap. I’m gonna call him.” He gently pushes me along. I fight the urge to eavesdrop and head to my room instead. I see Morgan in her room with Diana, playing with her old toys. Diana is in heaven. Morgan looks up and smiles.

  “I’m going to lie down for a bit. Uncle Derek’s in the kitchen.” I lean against her door frame.

  “Okay, Mom. Sleep well.” She goes back to whatever scene they are playing out in the dollhouse.

  Back in my room, I grab my favorite sweater of Grayson’s—which now has a little cologne on it—and climb into our bed. I snuggle with his sweater and quickly drift off.

  RAY

  “Derek!” I answer on the first ring.

  “Hey, Ray.” He sounds serious, not like his usual laid-back self.

  “Um, how’s Becca doing?” I pop the cap off my beer and toss it into the sink.

  “Not good, mate!” He clears his throat. “Look, Ray, we need to have a talk.”

  “What’s the matter? Is she okay?” I feel my panic rising.

  “She’s okay physically, but you’re really upsetting her, mate!” He’s stern, like a father getting ready to give his son a talking-to.

  “I know, D-man.” I sigh, angry at myself.

  “What is going on with you, man?” he asks with a hint of frustration.

  “Christ, I think I’m turning into a hormonal bitch! I feel like I’m walking on eggshells. I want to jump out of my skin!” It amazes me that I’m able to say all of this to Derek without an ounce of discomfort. Carl has been my best friend for years. I even got him to drag his ass down here from Maine. Yet, I wouldn’t have this kind of conversation with him if someone paid me. I think it must be because Derek’s known Becca for years. He’s a link to her past, and from time to time, has the answers I don’t always realize I’m searching for.

  “Well, Ray,” he starts. I hear him popping a cap off a beer as well.

  “Cheers, mate!” I tease.

  “Cheers!” I hear him take a swig. “Let’s talk about the big white elephant in the room,” he says to finish his thought.

  “What’s that?” I sit back at my desk and pull out my credit card.

  “The money, the homes, and the private jet,” he says slowly.

  “A private jet! She has a private jet?” I shoot out of my chair.

  “No. Do you feel better now?” Derek chuckles.

  “Ugh ... you ass!” I say with relief as I sit back down and bring my computer to life.

  “Let me ask you something, mate,” he says as I type in my info.

  “What’s that?” I search for the best offer. Shit, this is going to hurt!

  “Why are you so bent out of shape over the money?”

  I close my eyes, take a deep breath, and sit back.

  “I don’t know. I guess, well ... it’s my job to take care of Becca, and it’s a job I like. I want her to depend on me. I know it’s very old-fashioned, but that’s just how I am. I mean, I certainly don’t think she can’t have her career and make her own money. I just want to be the one who takes care of our personal stuff, and anything major with her business.” I shut up. The more I say, the more I feel like I’m transporting myself back to the 50s.

  “Let me ask you this.” Another swig. “Who took care of all the repairs and maintenance at the inn since she opened it?”

  “Me, but—”

  “Who built her store?”

  “I charged her for that!” I interject.

  “How much of a discount did you give her?”

  “Seventy-five percent,” I sigh.

  “Did she know?”

  “No.” I choose the best offer and type in my card info.

  “Who paid for trips to Maine, amusement parks, zoos, camping, and anything else?”

  “Me, Derek! What are you getting at?” I say, my voice flaring with irritation.

  “Who’s been taking care of her?” His tone matches mine.

  “Well, me, but that’s before she had all this money!” I argue.

  “Dude—she’s had the money the entire time! What are you talking about?” He gets louder.

  “I don’t know! This is what I mean! I’m all over the place, man. I don’t understand why she kept so much from me. I feel a bit betrayed—not that I have the right to. If anyone should, it’s Becca, after everything I’ve done to her.” I grab the tennis ball on my desk, toss it at the wall, and catch it. I get lost in the rhythm of playing catch, something I do when I’m contemplating ideas for a design. I try not to do it when Becca’s around, though—it drives her crazy.

  “What the fuck are you doing?” Apparently, Becca’s not alone in that.

  “Sorry,” I offer.

  “What have you done to Becca?” he asks me quickly, his voice already accusatory.

  “Never mind, she’s already forgiven me.” And here I am, acting like Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde!

  “Well, as far as the money, none of us knew. I have been pissed off at Grayson for years, thinking he left Becca to struggle. But that’s just Becca. She and Grayson were never flashy people. They have a nice house here, and put a lot of money into it, but other than that, they kept a low profile. Another thing, Ray,” he pauses and takes a deep breath. “Did you ever stop to think that Becca let you do those things because she likes having you take care of her? She’s very independent, but she’s old-fashioned, as well,” he states matter-of-factly.

  I sit back and think about the different times we went somewhere and Becca would pull out her money. All I would have to do is say, “Baby ... stop” in that tone that always affects her. She’d comply and kiss my cheek, thanking me. I’d turn to her and lift her chin with my forefinger. “You’re welcome, baby,” I’d say softly, letting my lips linger over hers without touching ‘til her breath got slightly erratic, then I’d lay one on her. Just a short, sweet kiss that I would reluctantly break.

  “McNeil!” Derek snaps me back.

  “Ugh, sorry, dude.” I hit print and put my card away.

  “Well, did you think about what I said?” he presses.

  “Yes. You’re right. I’m just ... I hate to admit it, man, but I’m feeling a bit insecure right now. I let things go at work, and I can’t really do stuff for her. Not that she ever looks for it. It’s all me, dude. I know that. I just need to snap out of it. I don’t want to push her away. I’ve been chasing her for five years, and now that she’s mine, I can’t seem to act normal. I don’t know.” Derek starts to laugh at me. “What?” I’m on the offense.

  “I’m experiencing major déjà vu!” Derek says.

  “Huh?”

  “Never mind.” He laughs.

  “Well, speaking of déjà vu, you’ll feel that way tomorrow morning at 10:03 a.m.,” I inform him.

  “Huh, why?”

  “Because you’ll be at LAX, picking my hormonal ass up. I promise though to try grow my balls back by then.” I chuckle.

  “No, Ray! She doesn’t want you here right now!”

  “Dude, ticket is paid for. I’m coming. Becca needs me. She said so herself.” I get up and put my designs for Lexter, Inc. into a cylinder container. Rich and I forgot about the New Year’s Day observation when we talked, so the plans will now be delivered on Wednesday.

  “Yeah, but Ray, you can’t behave like a jealous, insecure prick. The moment you do, you are outta here!” He’s actually terse with me.

  “I promise, dude, as long as you promise to always tell me what you think of me.” Slight sarcasm on my part.

  “Deal. I’ll see you tomorrow. Which airline?” he asks. I give hi
m the details before we hang up. I decide to text Becca. Kiss her butt, really.

  December 31, 2012 5:23 p.m.

  Me: Babe, happy to report stick has been safely removed. I am now back to being your handsome, charming, loving, and crazy-about-you boyfriend. Call me when you’re up from your nap. I love you!!! :)

  BECCA

  “Sweetheart, I’m so proud of you. You are doing so well.” Grayson holds me in his arms.

  “This is so hard, Gray,” I cry.

  “Shh ... there, there, love. You’re doing great. I love you, Becca.” He kisses me. “Now go and open your present, sweetheart. Please.” He smiles down at me. I open my eyes. Grayson’s sweater is bunched up by my mouth. I bend my head, plunging my nose into it and inhaling deeply.

  “Okay, Gray,” I sigh. I get up and head to the dresser where the wrapped gift is. I grab it and sit on the bed, then cross my legs, turn on the bedside lamp, and take in a deep breath. I know it’s some sort of book. I think it’s a scrapbook. I turn it over and slowly slide my fingers under the taped-down wrapping. It has stuck perfectly for over seven years. My hand slides down the middle to release that tape. This is the first time in my life I have ever unwrapped a gift so slowly. When the paper is off, I see it’s a deep purple scrapbook by Creative Memories. Another deep breath and I slowly open to the first page.

  It’s a picture from our wedding. We’re nose to nose. Our eyes are closed. No smiles—just a look of complete contentment. The title says: OUR LOVE AND LIFE IN PICTURES AND WORDS. I go on to read his message to me at the bottom of the page.

  Sweetheart,

  I wanted to do something special for you that I hope you will always cherish. I have to apologise in advance because I came across your old poetry and took liberty in rebutting some of them. I love you, Becca. I love our life. I love our family. You are my “Once Upon a Time” and the happy ending I never thought existed.

  I hope I have portrayed my feelings for you, and our life, correctly in this book. You have made me so happy, Becca. My life’s mission is to always make sure your happiness outshines mine.

  With my heart exploding for you,

  Your loving and adoring Husband,