Be My Reason

by Brooklyn Taylor

  “What do you think?” he asked, waiting for my approval.

  “I love it. It is so homie and welcoming. I always look for that when I walk in a home. The feeling, you know?”

  “I’m glad I have it here. I love my home. When I grew up we lived in a home over 5000 square feet. I never felt like it welcomed my friends, or me, really. It was so sterile.”

  “That’s unfortunate. I lived with my grammy and I always felt at home. It was at my father’s house that I never felt welcome.”

  I broke the silence in the room, announcing what I had brought this evening. “Here is some wine!”

  I handed it to Wyatt then placed my purse down on the console table along the wall. I straighten the long cardigan I had on, a thin one that covered my V-neck shirt with a pair of blue jeans. I tugged at my long beaded necklace a bit; straightening it, making sure it was centered.

  “I thought we could eat on my back deck. Wait ‘til you see what I got us for dinner.” He smiled with pride, pleased with himself.

  I spotted the containers on his wrought iron table. “Our first date’s food.”

  “Yep, Chinese. Truth be told, I can’t cook. I mean, I have a few things I can cook, but not really anything I wanted to serve you for your first night at my house. You’d run for the hills! We will leave that for later!” He laughed genuinely.

  “The real test will be what you ordered. Did you happen to remember what I like?”

  “Of course… take a look.” I bent down to look in the Styrofoam containers to see which one it could be. He already had on the black iron table: two wine glasses, some water bottles, two squared plates, and silverware. Even nicely folded cloth napkins. He had planned ahead and put thought into this.

  I smiled ear to ear.

  I sat down on the wrought iron chair, opening containers, looking for what he had ordered for us.

  “Well done, sir,” I said imitating a movie, pretend clapping. He had remembered.

  “I like to try to remember the little things. Sometimes I don't always though.”

  “Effort is always huge. Isn't that what it is all about?”

  “Yep. It sure is.”

  He had some country music playing in the background lightly.

  After finishing more than half a plate, I was nearing capacity. I began rocking in my chair, leaning back giving my body some breathing time. “So good. You picked a perfect meal tonight.”

  “Perfect company.”

  “Do you want another glass of wine?”

  “Maybe pour me a third of one.”

  I leaned back in the chair, rocking a bit more, observing the land around us. The crickets were out chirping.

  “You want to go in? It is getting a little chilly out here.”

  I shook my head. He stood up and took my hand and led me in.

  I sat on his brown leather couch with my feet under me.

  He had a throw blanket on his chair in the corner that he reached for. Wyatt placed it on me, not thinking twice about it, as if he had done it a million times before.

  “Thank you. How did you know?”

  “I don’t know. Just a feeling, I guess.”

  I smiled, pleased with his kindness.

  “I went home this last weekend.” He leaned back on his couch getting comfortable, following my lead. He placed his hand on my knee, lightly rubbing over it just to touch me, although the blanket was over it.

  “How did that go? Houston? I’ve only been a few times. A little too big for my taste.”

  “I grew up there. Dad’s office was in the city. Anyway, my mother asked me if I could go and ride horses with her. It’s something we had always done together.”

  “That’s nice. I love to ride horses but haven't gotten to do it a lot in my life.”

  “I’ll have to take you sometime.”

  I smiled and loved the thought of that. I wasn't good though, and I wasn't sure I wanted him to see me embarrass myself.

  “With my aunt getting sick, my mom’s sister, she has decided she doesn't want to waste any more of her life. She is getting a divorce from my dad. And the most ironic thing is, she is so happy. In fact, I have never seen her so happy.”

  “Really? Good for her. More marriages are unhappy than happy. I for sure know that after the work I am in.”

  “I spent some time riding with her and surprisingly I had a great time. I really didn't think I would see the day. I mean, I love my mother, but she hasn't ever been hands-on. She gave me some great advice though.”

  “You should be thankful you had her at all.” I paused. “My mom died during childbirth with me, as you know. I never got to meet her. The only things I have from her are pictures, an old pair of boots, stories from my dad and my grammy. You can guess which ones are better stories…”

  “I can’t imagine. But your grandmother stepped up as a mother.”

  “Oh, she did. And she was great, a real blessing. But it isn't the same. She was already over fifty, and she and my grandpa had already dealt with a lot with my mom and dad. My dad has never been a winner.”

  “So y'all were never close?”

  I took a long sip of wine. That was for another night.

  “Nah, he thinks I am to blame for my mother dying. A baby…he has never gotten past it. He had tried a few times when I was young, but he just can’t.”

  “So you took care of him?”

  “Sometimes. I have more as an adult. Many months he can’t make his bills so I have tried to help. It upsets my Grammy horribly that I care for him, when all he has done is desert me.”

  “I can see that. She sees her daughter’s side, and then her granddaughter’s side.”

  “Exactly.” I smiled.

  “Not to be devil’s advocate here, but do you think your father is such a bad dad because he really just can’t get over your mother? Maybe she was the love of his life?”

  “That’s what he says…”

  “I mean, don’t get me wrong, I don’t think there is ever an excuse for a man to be a bad father. Lord knows my father wasn’t Dad of the Year, and that is putting it mildly, but losing the love of your life and then having a baby. I just can’t imagine.” He seemed lost in thought until I spoke.

  “What advice did your mother give you? I don't see you being the kind of man who asks for it.”

  “It’s funny you say that, because I don't usually. But I had to at least hear her out. I told her about you and how I am feeling. She says grab on and don't let go. She also talked about my dad and her marriage a little. Told me never to take for granted what I feel for you. To take the chance and not be a chickenshit.”

  “Sounds like some good advice. Speaking of which, I wanted to talk to you about what I said last night on the phone. I didn’t mean the joke…”

  “It just caught me by surprise. I’ve had these feelings for you that I frankly don't know how to deal with, as pathetic as that sounds as a grown man.”

  “How so?” I asked, wanting to hear more. Not to mention I loved the way his eyes were looking at me, and the way his hand was rubbing my knee softly.

  “I’ve dated plenty of women, not that I am that type of guy, but I have been out there. I’ve fallen in love a few times. I’m at a time in my life when I wasn't looking for it. I was fine alone. I knew I was missing something, but I was okay with that until it was the right time, right person. And then you showed up. At a dance hall when I was meeting my brother of all times. The right place at the wrong time…”

  “I came out of nowhere all right. Emma still throws in my face that I didn't even want to dance with you, and she made me. She thinks it is hilarious. I’ll never live that down.” I shook my head. “But I truly know what you are saying. I had been in bad relationships for various reasons, one that was a dead end, going nowhere, one where I was cheated on, and one where my heart was broken.”

  “I’m sorry,” he said with sympathy.

  “It’s okay. Now I can look back and see they were never going to wor
k. But after the heartache, I learned. I know what I can bend on and what I can’t. I know what I want and what I don’t. And most of all, I know I can love someone and want love back. I want to care for someone and be cared for back. Not one-sided. And I know, despite what I had felt for a very long time, I deserve that.”

  I moved closer to him, keeping my eye contact with him. He smelled amazing tonight, masculine yet fresh. A scent I had come to know was his.

  He didn't take his eyes off me for one second.

  “Wyatt, please don't break my heart.”

  I kissed him, sealing it, hoping he really heard me, thankful I said it, and hoped his response would be as sincere as his kiss.

  “Likewise, baby.”

  The kiss gave me goosebumps. We stayed cuddled kissing and talking softly about us. I wanted time to freeze and the earth to halt around us. I wanted us to stay on this couch and hide from reality.

  21

  BREIGH

  As a legal assistant with Frank, he had really let me take the lead and generally run the office. But at this point, I was doing everything. I had dropped by his home on three different occasions to no avail. He was calling me here and there and sending me things through email, but the clients were piling up, needing his expertise. I had asked now twice in the last month if I could start referring some of the work to another attorney who specializes in Estates and Wills. Those two messages were the only two messages that were returned, notifying me that it was not time yet. I didn't understand what that meant and when I questioned it, I was left with zero answers. My patience was wearing thin.

  Finally, after two months, I called another office that was thirty miles from Hilltop. I couldn't keep up anymore. At this point, I was going to have to beg for forgiveness rather than permission.

  I had planned to go to Frank’s home and let him know he would have to step up, take on his workload, or I would have to get all the paperwork together sent. I was spending far too much time doing his job and I had succumbed. Life was too short to work this hard and not be able to follow through with the work that Frank had promised clients.

  At 6:30 p.m., I knocked on Frank’s large fancy designed door, nervous as all get out. I wasn't sure how it was going to pan out, but I was okay with walking away from the job if I had to. Over much thought and prayer I decided, I couldn't handle it anymore. I was beginning to lose my sanity.

  His wife answered the door with a frown and hugged me, welcoming me into their home. Jean was always a sweet woman but had never liked her husband practicing law. She was born privileged and expected nothing less, including his time. It was a hard sale. Just with the clothes and jewelry she had on tonight, it showed the distinct style and lifestyle she maintained. I could honestly say for certain, nothing touched her body unless it was designer, expensive, and way out of my league. Her wedding ring alone probably cost my yearly salary.

  I personally thought he worked as much as he did to stay away from Jean. She seemed to drive him crazy.

  “He hasn't been returning your calls either, I gather?”

  “No. Here and there, but not what I need.”

  “I’m sorry, dear. Have a seat in his study, the room on the left, and I will go get him.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Can I get you a coffee?”

  “Yes, coffee would be great.”

  Entering his study was nothing less than what I had expected. I had never been to his house, but he had always been flashy. He liked to show he had money, apparently just like his wife. The walls were lined with bookcases, a ladder slid along the wall, and in the center an oversized picture of his wife. Jean was wearing a large fur coat, sitting in a gold chair. Completely gaudy and I had no doubt it was her idea. The portrait sat over a large brick fireplace that was ancient, seeming to be from the 1800’s era.

  I touched the books, tempted to pull them out one by one to take a smell of the pages. Running my fingers along their spines would have to do. I wondered if they appreciated them like I would if they were mine.

  I took a seat and noticed the piles of paper in different sections on his desk. His cherrywood desk was massive, shiny on the areas that weren’t covered. He had a laptop on his desk but it was buried by more paper.

  “I was wondering how long you were going to let me ignore you,” Frank said, walking into his office, making me jump.

  His voice was shaky, not the confident bass I had come to recognize as my boss.

  I stood to see him and was disappointed and speechless when I saw his stature.

  “Have you been sick?”

  Good job, Captain Obvious.

  He muttered, but I couldn't hear him and wouldn't dare ask him to repeat himself. He seemed out of breath and irritated. Instead of the suits he wore on a regular basis, he had on a pair of jogging pants and a white shirt covered by a business white button-up left open.

  “To say the least,” he muttered.

  I watched as he made his way behind his desk and then took a seat. He didn't seem distracted by all the papers that had taken over his space.

  “I got a call today from Pratt, Richards, and Cook. You had apparently called them this morning, asking to help take over the majority of my caseload.”

  “Yes, sir.” I was nervous what was going to come next. I didn't want to upset him, or make him think I was ungrateful for the opportunities he had given me.

  Frank looked me in the eye and muttered the opposite of what I was expecting, “Thank you.”

  I had run a million excuses through my head since making that call; how I would explain that I had called, but him thanking me was never what I expected. “Sir? Come again?”

  “I said thank you. I needed you to make the call. Listen, I know how ridiculous it sounds. And it does. I’m a grown man who had years of education and ran a successful attorney practice for over thirty years. My pride stood in my way.”

  “So what does this mean?”

  “It means I’m retiring.”

  “I’m happy for you, I think…I guess I need to look for me a job then, huh?” I smiled but wanted to panic at the same time. I knew that was a real possibility, but hell…

  “No, you don’t, Mr. Pratt agreed to keeping you on staff and you can work from home, and then drive in when needed. You go to most people anyway. You have always been good about getting everything entered into the computer, and they have a large database, much more up-to-date than mine. You’ll be fine. I told him you are the best assistant I have had in my thirty years.”

  “I am speechless. And so thankful for everything you have done for me.” My eyes were filling with tears and I didn't want to let them fall. I was afraid to blink.

  “I am thankful for you, Breigh. It is the least I can do. You have become like a daughter to me, although it pains me to say I sure didn't act that way the majority of the time.” He paused. “And yes, I am having some health issues, but I’m an old man. It is to be expected. I just have worked too much for too many years. It takes its toll on you.”

  “That is exactly why I was starting to panic. I was working more than sleeping. Plus your clients…I just felt like…”

  “I know how you felt. You have always looked out for their best interests.”

  “I felt like I was betraying you and felt so bad.”

  “You didn’t. I was really struggling with what to do. My wife was no help, and I couldn't talk to any of my colleagues. A lot of times they are vultures. But I knew you would do what you could for as long as you could. I should be apologizing to you for all the trouble I’ve created for you. I should have called it quits a year ago but instead was holding on.”

  “You deserve to retire, sir. You can spend your days now doing whatever you please.”

  “I hope so. Lately all I feel like doing is sleeping, and watching golf. I don't even have the energy to play it.”

  We laughed together briefly until he began coughing.

  “Sir, what do you want me to do with the work that has be
en waiting for signatures and final look-throughs?”

  “How about I come to the office Monday, and we will go through everything? It will be our official last day together.”

  “The end of a great run, right?” I commented, seeing the pain in his eyes.

  “Exactly.” He smiled but I could tell he was emotional about it.

  WYATT

  Today was exhausting and I couldn't wait to pick up a pizza, crack open a beer, and watch some football. My brain had been running a million miles an hour, trying to put the puzzle together what had been plaguing me for two days now. The case I was on was something that had really struck a chord with me, and it was all I could think about. I was determined to find the sorry son of a bitch who had beat up two elderly ladies and took their purses. That kind of crime didn't sit well with me. I had their battered pictures sitting in front of me on my coffee table starring at them in frustration.

  Headlights shined through my front windows and I sat a few minutes, assuming that it was a lost driver. It was hard to see our house numbers and it sometimes confused people. They usually figured it out though.

  I took another bite of my pizza, and a swig of my beer before I heard a car door. It was past eight and I was spent.

  “What now?” I stood up to look out my front window. I saw Breigh walking up with a smile on her face.

  I met her at the door, pleased to see her. “What are you doing here?”

  “I just wanted to see you.” She hugged me and I smelled the top of her head before placing a kiss on it.

  I lifted her chin up to see her face and moved her hair slightly away. “Everything okay?”

  “Fabulous, actually. I just left Frank’s house. He’s retiring.”

  “Your boss? And is that good news?”

  “Yes! It solves my overworked issue. I was working myself into an early grave.”

  “Does that mean you won’t have a job though?” I look at her confused, trying to compute how I was supposed to be acting.

  “That is even better…he…”