“Now, the story changed.”
His head tilted, he shifted his weight. “Yeah. The story changed.” The ache in his voice sent a stab of heat through my chest.
Beck’s mom was one very shrewd, very tough woman. Although not a smiley happy go lucky kind of lady, Lenore was always pleasant and polite, and underneath, always tough as nails. “Down to earth and salt of the earth, tell it like it is,” my mother had once remarked about Lenore. Exactly that.
Both glamorous and grungy, tattooed from head to toe, Lenore was a lingerie and clothing designer and sold her pieces at her boutique in town—in addition to a number of sex toys—all of which caused a stir, at first. She definitely moved to the beat of her own drum.
Men and women were both turned on and intimidated by her. Of course, she was close friends with all the biker old ladies in town. I always sensed Lenore could slice you with her brisk smile. It was a sharp blade filed with derision.
She was my superhero.
Beck’s hand went to the back of his neck and rubbed. He was uncomfortable.
“So I guess to suddenly hear your mom tell you that she was getting married—”
“Flipped me the fuck out, in plain English.” His voice was raw, he took another swig of water. “Turns out she and Finger knew each other a long time ago. They were each other’s first loves.”
This new information was a revelation to him. A jolt.
“I always thought she had a secret locked down deep inside her.” He wiped at his lips. “But I never realized that it could be this.”
“Oh, wow. I get it.”
“I never knew about her life before my dad—nothing about her past. She never wanted to talk about it and never did. And from what little she told me now, I get the feeling that her past was pretty brutal and really dangerous. She’d lived a whole other crazy lifetime before she met my dad, before I came along.” He took in a tight breath.
“You couldn’t have known. She didn’t want you to know. Maybe it was hard for her to deal with.”
“Yes. She was brave as fuck, and Finger had been there for her back then. They went through a lot together.” He winced, tugging a hand through his hair, pushing one side behind an ear.
“And after all these years, they managed to find their way back to each other?” My voice was bright and gentle. Beck needed bright and gentle right now. “That’s some epic dream of the highest order come true.”
Eyes gleaming, he only nodded his head, a small sound escaping his throat. “It is. But I could tell she was worried about how I’d take it, and I hated that.” His rough whisper tripped my pulse.
“You’re her son, Beck. She cares about what you think and how you feel. That will never change.” My mind raced back to memories of Mom and Five, and my insides tightened. “Trust me, never.”
“I told her that I’m genuinely happy for her—for both of them. She’s getting this once in a lifetime second chance, which is so awesome. I told Finger that tonight, too. I wanted him to hear it straight from me.”
“A real life happy ever after.”
“They’re lucky.” The muscle along his jawline flexed.
“What’s wrong?”
He let out a heavy breath, a fist curling in his chest. “There’s this piece of me that doesn’t know what to do with it.”
“And that upsets you.”
His gaze lifted to mine and burned. “It pisses me off, Violet. It pisses me off. This isn’t about me. I shouldn’t be feeling—”
“Don’t be so hard on yourself, Beck. All of this is so emotional and completely new terrain for all of you: for your mom, for her and Finger, for you, for you and your mom. It’s a lot, a lot to navigate, but it’s a lot of good, too. Plus, for them, a lot of healing old wounds and a fresh start, right?”
“Hmm.” He sniffed in air, his eyes brighter somehow. “I felt so overwhelmed by all of it when she first told me, and I started working on a new song, this one. Writing helps me figure stuff out. And I needed her to know that her happiness means the world to me. I needed her to know.”
My breath cut, smoldering in my chest at this confession of the soul. I touched his arm and squeezed. “Mission accomplished, Mr. Lanier.”
His hand clasped mine, his grip tight. Heat throbbed in my fingers, through my hand, pulsing up my arm. Suddenly we were only inches apart. I squeezed his hand. “This is what I know, Beck—ever since Lenore got together with Finger, whenever I see her around town, she is walking on air, she’s beaming—well, in her Lenore kind of way.” I let out a small laugh.
His face remained somber. He said nothing. Dang, did he take my remark the wrong way? I squeezed his hand again. “You know what I mean, right?”
His head fell back, and he let out a rich laugh. My lungs jumped back into action at the sound. “Oh, Violet, I know what you mean, and that’s exactly what I meant too.” He took me in his arms and hugged me, his taut, warm body engulfing mine. A woodsy clean scent filled my senses.
“You did? Really?”
He released me. “My mom’s dated a lot, but not one guy was ever necessary, you know what I mean?”
Oh, I know precisely what you mean. My knees wobbly, I leaned against the wall. “Sure.”
“But Finger? Absolute necessity. The two of them are in this harmony together that’s ages old. They have a secret language all their own, a language that was forged a long time ago, a bond with a deep history. Like you said, she’s different with him. At first I thought maybe it was me having come off the crazy of the tour because I’ve never seen her like this before. Jesus, the PDA and the giggling on the sofa last night? Man…”
We laughed. The lines of his face stiffened once more. “All this makes me wonder, do you have to suffer for the real thing? The real happy ending? Is the real thing so intense, so powerful that sometimes you just can’t hack it? Seems like if you don’t make the right choice at the right time, you stand to lose a hell of a lot, if not all of it, right?”
“True.”
“Then life gets in the way and…”
“I don’t know much about love, but real life ain’t Hallmark cards, that’s for sure.”
“Spoken like a survivor.”
“You could say that.” I ground my boots into the concrete floor. How did we get so melancholic? No more. “Beck, you gave your mom an amazing gift tonight. I can’t even imagine how she must have felt watching you onstage, listening to you sing her that song.”
“I didn’t plan on performing tonight. I knew she was bummed she couldn’t make it to any of our later shows. We came here after dinner, and there was open mic night and Finger suggested I take the opportunity. I had the song ready. It all worked out, and Finger is the one who helped make it happen.”
Beck twisted his empty water bottle, the sharp, cracking noise filled the hallway. “Thanks for listening, Violet. It was good to talk all this out. You really helped me.”
My chest surged with warmth. “You’re welcome.”
I wasn’t ready to say goodbye to Beck. I wasn’t ready to say goodbye to this kind of intense, frank conversation. Not yet.