by Kay Stockham
Angel squeezed tight before dropping her hand and wrapping her arm around Marley’s shoulders. Side by side they walked toward the kitchen. “Gotta tell you, Lucy. The way our love lives are right now? I think Thelma and Louise were on to something.”
CHAPTER TEN
TWO HOURS LATER Beau stood staring out the window of his shrink’s office.
“I can’t say that I approve of the way the information was relayed, but it is an enlightening piece of the puzzle. How did it make you feel?”
A laugh rumbled out of his chest. “You’re kidding, right? How did it make me feel? I feel like a Class-A jerk. What kind of man does that to a woman? To his baby?”
“Sounds to me like you were still very much a kid at eighteen.”
“That doesn’t excuse it.”
“That’s a very adult way of looking at it. You came straight here from there?” The doctor waited. “Beau?”
“I had time to kill and didn’t feel like going home.”
“I see. So where did you go? Did you have another confrontation with Marley’s brother?”
He lowered his head and pressed it against the cool glass, not caring that he probably smudged the doc’s perfectly clean window. “No. I went to the park.” The one he stared at now. The kids playing on the swings, giggling as they went down the slide. He hadn’t paid any attention to the boys, but every little girl had caught his eye and he’d probably freaked out a few moms.
“You’re mourning your daughter, aren’t you?”
He nodded. “I close my eyes and it’s easy to see a little girl who looks like Marley. It kills me that…” He couldn’t continue. There wasn’t an obscenity out there that reflected how he felt.
“It’s a perfectly understandable reaction. You feel a loss any caring person would feel.” The doctor shifted and put his notepad aside. “I had a busy day today, but I think we need to discuss this in detail. Have you eaten? I’ve learned I think a lot better on a full stomach. You’re my last patient, and while this is a bit unusual, I could order something in and we can take as much time as you like to talk about this.”
Beau turned to look over his shoulder at the older man. He had a professorial look to him with his beard, mustache and round-framed glasses. The gray at his temples matching the gray of his suit. He turned back to the glass. “Whatever works, Doc.”
All he knew was that he didn’t want to go home. For once, he was in the mood to talk.
BARRY’S LEGS COLLAPSED under him and he fell back into the old worn recliner behind him. “What?”
“I got her pregnant, blew her off and later the baby died.” Beau watched him closely. “Be honest, Pop. You didn’t know? You weren’t keeping it a secret?”
He shook his head, unable to do more. A baby? He would’ve been a grandfather?
Barry opened his mouth to reassure Beau only to close it again, his chest tight. What could he say? From the sound of it, Beau knew the ramifications of what he’d done. What he’d lost by being so wild and irresponsible. “That’s why her brother beat you up?”
“He got in a few lucky shots.” Beau shook his head in disgust. “I can’t be too mad at the guy because after hearing what I did, I deserved it.”
To some extent, but he was angry on Beau’s behalf. He’d had a major head injury—springing that kind of news on him could’ve done a lot of damage and yet the girl’s brother had tried to beat him up?
“After I left her place I went to my appointment.”
“And?”
Beau shrugged. “We talked. Dr. Steinman apparently didn’t have a family to go home to because he ordered dinner for us and we talked it out. Why I feel guilty now, about growing up and being a different person than I was then. That sort of thing.” He lifted the bag he still carried in his hand. “Here, catch. Dinner was so good I picked up some for you on the way home. Thought you might like it.”
Barry caught the bag, his eyes widening when he caught a whiff of the food inside. “Fish?”
“Yeah. I’ll be eating there every time I have to go see the shrink, I can tell you that.”
“You ate this?” Barry stared at his son, saw him nod and sucked in an unsteady breath before he scrambled out of the recliner and hurried to the kitchen, tossing the food onto the counter.
Beau followed him. “What’s wrong?”
Beginning to wheeze, Barry felt his heart racing out of control. Beau stared at him as if he’d lost his mind. Maybe he had. His son had changed due to the head injury, but no way could he change—
Fear settled in the pit of his stomach and he leaned against the countertop, his hands gripping the edge in an effort to keep himself upright.
Oh, Lord Almighty.
“Pop? Are you okay?”
Tightness filled his chest, not allowing him to catch his breath. He knew the signs, the symptoms, and fumbled in his pocket for the inhaler he kept with him, dropped it and watched dazedly as it skidded away on the linoleum. “Lord, help me.”
“Pop, sit down. Take it easy, I’ll get it.”
He felt himself being led to one of the kitchen chairs. Pressed into it. Pop. Pop?
“Here.” The inhaler appeared before his face and Barry grasped it in his shaking hands, having to use both just to have the strength to squeeze it.
“I’m going to call an ambulance.”
He shook his head and took another puff, but the boy was up. Gone. On the phone to 9-1-1. Another pull of the inhaler. Nothing was happening. Maybe a hospital would be good. “Beau.”
“Yeah, Pop? What do you need? I’m right here.”
Barry stared into the face watching him with such concern, taking in every detail, looking closely, so closely. Until he saw the truth. Tears filled his eyes. Shaking, his chest squeezed tighter, clamping down on lungs that refused to work, his heart unable to believe what his mind now recognized. “Beau.”
Everything faded to black.
THE NEXT MORNING Marley was hard at work at the construction site, but her thoughts were focused entirely on Beau and Clay. Her brother had returned to the apartment an hour later, but Angel had refused to open the door, stating that they were both fine and needed some “girl time.”
Clay had eventually given in and left, and after a heart-to-heart about what they both wished they could have out of life, she’d gone to bed. Angel had stayed up, watching television with a thoughtful frown on her face.
Marley hated herself for wondering what had happened to Beau. Hated that smidgen of disappointment she didn’t want to acknowledge because he hadn’t returned to the apartment last night, too. She didn’t want to care that Beau hadn’t come back.
But there was a reason Beau’s father wasn’t telling him details about his life. What if the news of the baby had caused him to have a setback? Should she call and check on him?
No, no. No!
What was she doing? Thinking? Unbidden, she slid a glance over her shoulder to the house across the street and groaned. She’d left Eli in charge of the shop so she could spend the morning at the development catching up with work, and what was she doing?
She shook her head at herself. She shouldn’t be thinking about Beau at all, not after what he’d done to her. She wouldn’t be, either, if the changes in him weren’t so drastic. Apologies, bone-melting glances that turned seconds into hours.
Head injuries were dangerous, but how could they change someone so much?
The mental battle raged on and just as she was about to toss her rake aside and grab her cell phone from her pocket, a low rumble reached her ears. The diesel truck? Seconds later the red crew cab pulled into the drive next door and Beau got out, cane and all. He’d driven there like that? The bandage was on his left leg and not his right and he’d driven himself to the apartment last night, but…
Beau had a black eye. So bruised she could see it from across the road and…Was he limping worse than before? On her way out of town she’d seen Clay walking into his newspaper office and he’d had a dark brui
se by his mouth and a few puffy spots, but he didn’t look that much worse for wear. How dare he pick a fight with an already injured man?
Stepping over the rake, she ignored the voice in her head telling her to leave well enough alone and started across the street. Beau saw her walking toward him and met her in the middle of the rough gravel road.
“Are you okay?”
One corner of his mouth lifted in a painful-looking half smile. He nodded. “I was going to ask you the same thing.”
“I’m not the one bruised and limping. I’m fine.”
“Your brother got a couple sucker punches in, that’s all. And I guarantee he’s hurting some, too.”
Satisfaction rang in his tone and she shook her head at the statement, a small part of her hoping Clay was hurting for taking unfair advantage. “I’m sorry he attacked you.”
“I’m sorry we didn’t get to finish our conversation.”
“What else was there to say?” She glanced at the cab of the truck. “Your dad isn’t with you?”
“He’s at home resting. He had an asthma attack last night and blacked out. They kept him at the hospital for a while, but released him with orders to rest. They said stress and fatigue caused it.”
“He must be very worried about you to have gotten so run-down.” She was struggling to breathe normally because of what the look in his eyes did to her insides.
“I told him about the baby. That didn’t help.”
Could it really have come as that much of a surprise? She’d thought Beau’s father would have already known about the baby, that Beau would’ve told him when it happened. The way you told your parents? “He took it badly?”
“Yeah. He said he didn’t know. That I’d never said anything. Then he started wheezing and the attack kicked into full gear.” Beau shifted from foot to foot. “Marley, don’t take this the wrong way, but you told me, right? You’re not—”
“Lying?” She stiffened, straightening her shoulders. “No, Beau, I’m not. Lying was your expertise back then. I told you I was pregnant, you wanted nothing to do with me or the baby, and that was that. Don’t try to turn this around on me because you’re feeling guilty.”
“I’m sorry.” He ran a hand over his short hair. “Things were confusing enough before that was added in.”
He spoke with such sadness, she faltered. “Well, it’s in the past now and it’s over. Your dad will feel better soon. There’s no need to dwell on it.” Beau didn’t look convinced, but who could blame him? It probably wouldn’t be over for him until he could actually remember it.
“Marley, I can’t blame you for being upset with me about this. I’m mad as hell that I can’t remember things I know I should. I can’t even blame your brother for tearing into me because the guy wants to protect you and I understand why. I get that, I deserved this—” he motioned toward his face “—and a lot more for hurting you. But I am sorry. There’s no excuse for treating you the way I did. All I can do now is apologize and be thankful that I’m not the same guy I was back then. If the situation were to happen now—”
“It most certainly wouldn’t happen now. I’m not eighteen and gullible anymore.”
He hesitated. “I just wanted to say I’d handle it differently.”
Was that supposed to make her feel better? Sorry I didn’t care about you back then but hey, if you’d waited a while, maybe I could’ve.
“Marley, you have every right to hate me. I wish there was some way I could change things, but we can’t go back. Now more than ever I’d really like to get that clean slate with you.”
Biting her inner lip, she was afraid to let her hopes rise. “Maybe we can, but there’s only one way that could happen.”
“How?”
She dug deep for strength and hardened her heart at the excited glimmer she saw in his eyes. “By proving to me that you regret the hurt you caused. Go back to Cincinnati, Beau. Go back and stay there, and let your dad and his men handle this job.”
His head dropped, the glimmer fading fast. A rough, husky laugh emerged from his chest. “Careful or I’ll think you hate me enough to want to be rid of me.”
Why did he act as though her words hurt him? Why did she care if they did? “Beau, I’m not the only one affected by your presence here. You saw Clay last night. South Ridge is small and the number one pastime is gossip. You’d do us all a favor if you left.”
“I can’t.” He lifted a hand toward the house. “I have a couple hours at best that I can work before Pop wakes up. We’re behind schedule and I need to take on more of the load, not leave when he needs me.”
“You did before.”
His jaw firmed. “I’ll always regret that I put that look in your eyes. But I’m not abandoning Pop when he needs me. I have some making up to do with him, too.”
She stared up at him, growing angrier because of the tender way he said that, the way he referred to his father with such respect. One day she’d been a carefree teenager out to conquer the world, and the next a terrified one facing motherhood and a family shamed beyond measure. Beau hadn’t even considered doing the honorable thing back then. He’d laughed at her tears. What changed?
“You’ve made it clear that I’m the last person you want to talk to, Marley, but I’m not going anywhere. Pop can’t handle things on his own. He’s tired, but as stubborn as ever and determined to look out for me, and the last few weeks—the last couple of years— have taken a toll on him. That’s my fault. I know, I hurt you and should’ve been there for you and the baby, but it’s too late for me to do anything about that now. It’s not too late to make it up to Pop. Marley, he’s taken care of me, raised me and seen me through some rough stuff. Now I need to do the same for him, and I can’t do that if I leave town because you and your family don’t like me.”
“It’s way more complicated than me not liking you.”
His blue eyes narrowed. “What do you mean?”
Her head started to ache from the bright sun and she fished for her sunglasses, taking her cell phone out of her pocket and finding the glasses farther down in the deep cargo pants. She put the glasses on her nose, thankful for the relief they brought after a sleepless night. “The summer we met was a big deal to me. It was the first time I’d ever been away from home and on my own, and everyone in town knew. That trip was meant to let me dip my toes in the water before I jumped in and left home for college. Instead it was the end of college and…a lot more.”
“How’d we meet?”
This was so not how she’d pictured her day, reminiscing with the man who’d blessed and ruined her life in the same act. “You were hanging out with some guys in a mall, I was visiting my grandmother and…Forget it, the rest doesn’t matter.”
“How long were we together?”
She stared at her feet. “Not long. A couple weeks.” Sixteen days to be exact. A whirlwind tornado of quick meets, few words and sex with a guy she barely knew. Not exactly something to write home to Mom and Dad.
“So we dated and…”
She shook her head and forced a smile. “Then we were over.”
He blinked at her, his expression somewhat doubtful that was possible. “Just like that?”
“Just like that. It wasn’t a winter dance or prom kind of thing, Beau.”
“What was it then?”
Uncomfortable, she toed the rock in front of her. “I don’t know. More…more like the back of the bleachers and riding without a helmet kind of thing. The kind that fizzled fast when you’d had your fun.” Sighing, she looked up and noted the rich black cast of his hair, the crease at the side of his mouth and the shadowy bristle he’d forgotten to shave off that morning. Things she shouldn’t be noticing. “It was—It was fast and stupid, which explains perfectly well why it didn’t last.”
How weird was this, discussing one of the most painful times of her life with the man who’d caused it, all the while aware of the fact he didn’t remember it?
“What did I do when you told me you
were pregnant?”
Thankful she’d donned the glasses, Marley frowned, hoping he couldn’t see the hurt and pain she still felt at being used and shoved aside so easily. “By then you’d already moved on. It was the end of summer, and you were dating someone else. Several people actually. You told me it wasn’t your fault, that we weren’t exclusive and it had been fun, and that you’d give me money if I wanted to get rid of it. Otherwise, you were sorry and that was that.”
Beau paced away from her, his limping stride angry and agitated, his jaw locked. “I can’t believe I was such a—Marley, I’m sorry.”
“So you’ve said. But like I said, what we had wasn’t much. That just proved it.”
“You were better off without me. You realize that, right?”
He admitted it?
As though too agitated to stand still, Beau paced again, his cane hitting the driveway in sharp stabs. She could practically see his mind working it all through. How was it possible he’d said those words to her then and yet seemed to find them so reprehensible now?
“I should’ve protected you and the baby from all of that. I should’ve been man enough to take responsibility for my actions. I should’ve…I should’ve been there for you, both of you. You shouldn’t have had to face your family and the gossips alone.”
She agreed. But he hadn’t been, nor had he wanted to be and that was of his own choosing, she reminded herself. A head injury couldn’t change that.
“What else happened?” He stopped when he neared her, impatience crossing his face. “Something else happened. I see it every time we talk. Was it something with me, or when you came back here? You’re not saying something, what was it? Tell me.”
Why not? It wasn’t as if it was a secret in town. She inhaled. “Something else did happen. W-when I got back here I was in shock. I kept the pregnancy a secret for a long time. I could because it was getting cooler and I wasn’t very big and…I didn’t know what to do. Sweatshirts hid the bulge, though, so I thought I was safe until I figured things out. Angel helped me, but then…someone found out and then everyone knew.”
