Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 100713 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 504(@200wpm)___ 403(@250wpm)___ 336(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100713 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 504(@200wpm)___ 403(@250wpm)___ 336(@300wpm)
While I was waiting for the water to boil, I heard a deep voice behind me.
“Changed your mind?”
I whirled around with my hand over my heart. “Oh! You scared me.”
“Sorry.” Beckett’s smile was amused.
“I decided I wasn’t too full for pie.”
“Good decision.”
“Want some?”
“Nah.” He ducked into the garage and tossed his empty beer bottle into the bin. “But I’ll join you. If you want company.”
“Sure.” Behind me, the kettle began to whistle, and I quickly pulled it off the heat. “How about some tea?” I asked, pouring hot water over the teabag.
“No, thanks.” He grabbed another beer from the fridge and took a seat at the island, which had four counter stools.
I carried my tea mug and pie plate to the island, sitting next to him. “Elliott had such a great day. Thanks for everything.”
“My pleasure. My dad had a great day too. He asked if the strata lady was going to be here again tomorrow.”
I laughed. “The strata lady? Is that my name now?”
“Unless he’s thinking of Blair. But I’m pretty sure it’s you.”
“We had a nice time. I’d be glad to take him downtown again.” I tasted the pie and moaned quietly. “Oh my God, I see what you mean. This is every bit as good as Betty Frankel’s.”
“I agree.” He tipped up his beer.
“I had so much fun tonight. Girl talk is good therapy.”
He cocked his head. “You needed therapy?”
I laughed. “Doesn’t everyone?”
“I wouldn’t know. I’ve never been.” He tipped up his beer. “It sounds like torture to me.”
“Really? I love my therapist. She’s helped me so much.”
“With what?” he asked, then he looked contrite. “Sorry, is this private? You don’t have to tell me.”
“No, it’s okay. I don’t mind talking about it. In fact, I think saying things out loud helps me work through them. It’s keeping things bottled up that’s harmful.”
He took another drink. “What things did you keep bottled up?”
I looked at my plate and pushed some apple filling around. “Where my mother was concerned, a lot of anger and resentment. But my therapist helped me reframe some of my mother’s behaviors.”
“How so?”
“Well, for example, in my mother’s eyes, pushing me so hard to be financially secure was a way to show me she loved me. She wanted me to have an easier life than she’d had. She didn’t want me to struggle.” I sighed. “But that’s not what I wanted from my mom—I wanted to hear that she loved me and would have been proud of me no matter what. I had to forgive her for that.”
Beckett nodded. “And have you?”
“Yes,” I said carefully, “but it’s sort of an ongoing thing. I’m hoping that selling the house gives me a sense of closure. I’m still working to let go of a lot of guilt and fear she instilled.”
“Fear of what?”
“Failing to live up to people’s expectations. Letting people down. Making the wrong choices. I mean, let’s face it, I’ve made some doozies.”
He shrugged. “Everyone makes mistakes.”
“Right, but . . .” I took a breath and admitted something I’d only ever said in therapy. “One of the things my mother used to say to me over and over was that I wasn’t capable of making good decisions. That she knew better than I did what was best. You hear that enough times, you start to believe it. You don’t trust yourself. I mean, when I look back, sometimes I’m shocked I had the nerve to quit medical school.”
“But you did it,” Beckett said firmly. “And it was the right decision.”
“But then I married Sam.”
“And now you have Elliott.”
I sat up taller and smiled. “Yes. Now I have Elliott. Being his mom has been the best thing that ever happened to me. And I’m very proud that I went back and got my nursing certificate and a job, even though Sam didn’t want me to work.”
“See? You know what’s best for you.”
My spirits lifted, and I dug into my pie again. “Well, I’m a work in progress. But I’m okay with that.”
Beckett took another drink. “Think you’ll stay in Ohio?”
“Yes.” Setting my fork down, I picked up my tea. “Not because I love it so much, but it’s the only home Elliott has ever known. There’s been enough disruption in his life without uprooting him without good reason. And Sam isn’t the best father in the world, to say the least, but even an okay dad is better than no dad at all. I don’t want Elliott to grow up without one.”
“Family is important. I missed mine a lot when I was gone. My friends too. Even this town.”
I nodded. “I get it. When I was younger, I couldn’t wait to leave Bellamy Creek, but as an adult—especially a mom—I can see all the benefits of growing up here. It’s such a safe, close-knit place. Everyone is so friendly. People I haven’t seen in fifteen years hugged me today and remembered my name! It made me feel so good.”