My honesty seems to silence Goldie. I’m now so sure about mine that I wonder what she wants fromherlife. I know she’s in a transitional phase, but still, does she want a relationship? In the half year that I’ve known Goldie, I don’t think I’ve heard her say “when I’m married,” or “when I’m a mom,” or “at my next job.” I haven’t heard her plan for anything. And that’s okay. It’s okay to chill. But I always catch her staring off into space, a frown idle on her lips. I don’t think she’s chillin’. I think she’s lost.
“You wanna have kids one day, Goldie?” I ask, getting to my feet.
“Eh,” she waves a hand. “I love Jetster, but I don’t think parenting is for me. I like my time. I like my things.” She shrugs. “Maybe I’m shallow, but at least I’m honest with myself. Aboutthis,at least.”
“Fair enough,” I add. “But maybe you’ll change your mind. A family wasn’t on my mind until I met Beck.”
“I don’t want to have children, Beau.” She steadies her palms on the table, leaning over the mess she’s cleaning to speak to me. “No matter how great the man, he isn’t going to change what I want and who I am at my core.”
“Okay.” She knows better than I do. “Well, if you need help getting a bed in here, tell Beck. Miller and I can come back.”
“Actually,” she says, shifting topics easily. I think neither of us are in for big psychological breakdowns. Moving has made us exhausted. “I have a bed coming tomorrow.” She winces a little, biting down on her thumbnail nervously. “Do you think you could help me? It’s coming right at noon.”
I nod. “Yeah, I’ll swing by on my lunch break.”
She nods gratefully, but her face tells me she’s got something on her mind.
“What?” I ask, ready to head out, hand bracing the front door.
“I mean, I appreciate you coming to help. Honestly, Beau, I do. And you know I love you and love you and Beck and everything but…” Her eyes narrow, and I feel self-conscious in this limbo. “Well, I don’t get why you worry about lunch breaks and being late in the morning and stuff like that when you own the whole damn company.”
I shove a hand through my hair, finding my scalp damp from a long day of moving. “I’m a mechanic. I happen to be the owner, but on the day-to-day, I’m a mechanic, and being there on time with everyone else is my life.”
She nods. “You ever wanna work at corporate?” She smiles, her cheeks a little pink. “I looked the company up, read everything I could. Headquarters are in Seattle. It’s beautiful there. Beautiful but wet. You could have an amazing home, wear a suit, have a driver, Jett could have an au pair, Beck could open a huge studio…” She shrugs, her face looking genuinely confused and, at this point, a little envious. “Why would you stay here when you could be there?”
“That life doesn’t sound better to me,” I explain, earning me more confusion from Goldie. I shift my weight and drop my hand from the doorframe, instead pocketing them. “This is the exact life I want. Working in the town I grew up in, where I learned everything I know from Atticus, right here in Oakcreek.” I study her eyes for a minute, searching for a single clue. Something to tell me that suits and drivers aren’t what’s really in her heart. She just blinks.
“I found a woman and boy with who I wanna build blanket forts with, who I wanna have movie nights with, who I wanna play board games with and make s’mores with and teach how to throw a ball and fold a paper airplane and cast a lure… My life has always been here; the best part of my life was here waiting for me. So no, I don’t want to leave. I want to drive my wife and kids, not some dude with an earpiece. I want to live in a house that's small enough that we can call for each other from any room and be able to hear each other's voices. I don’t want a mansion overlooking the Pacific Northwest. I want my babies steps from me at all times. I want to know that if I need to kiss my wife or smack her ass and tell her she’s looking fine, or… I don’t know, find her to pick a fight about the thermostat. Whatever it is, I want to get to her quickly. I don’t want empty rooms and untouched items between us. That’s… fuckin’ crazy to me.”
All she does is shake her head for a second. “You, Beau Burns, are the least millionaire-ish millionaire I’ve ever heard of.”
“Maybe.” I stick out my hand, but Goldie pulls me into a hug.
“Thanks for everything. See you tomorrow,” she says, patting my sweaty back. Hers is sweaty, too. I was surprised that Goldie actually helped Miller and I move boxes. She struck me as the type to put her feet up, but she held strong, climbing that narrow stairwell with her hands full just as many times as he and I did.
* * *
“No, Mama! Want Bo!”
When the front door to Beck’s place seals shut behind me, I’m met with a sight that makes my eyes a little itchy and warm.
Jett, a bib of drool lining his dinosaur t-shirt, running toward me, chubby legs haulin’ ass. His arms are out, and I kneel to receive his body slam just in time.
Wrapping my arms around him, I litter kisses across the top of his head and cheeks as we do our routine post-work spin-hug. It’s like the one I witnessed from the street that night of our first date, when Beck spun him around laughing. He giggles and it's a sound I’ll remember on my deathbed, I swear.
“He wouldn’t let me put his pants back on. He saw your headlights.”
“Bo! Eat! We eat!”
I poke his tummy as he sinks his body against mine. Normally, he talks a little more and attempts to lure me into some poking and playing. Tonight, I can tell he’s pooped.
“Is my Jetpack jetlagged?” I tease him.
Crossing the room, I meet Beck and kiss her lips across the top of Jett’s head. “He’s cutting two new teeth,” she sighs, her hands reaching to take him.
“Is it bedtime now, then?” I ask.
She surveys what’s left of his dinner, scattered on his high chair tray. “Sure, he’s already had a bath.”