“It’s just a nasty virus of some kind,” she says, fiddling with the ends of my hair in between passes of her palm down my spine. “They’re just over-reacting because he’s so young and his fever is high.” A beat passes like she can read my mind, she quickly adds, “but it’s not too high. Don’t worry. It’ll come down. He will be okay.”
He will be okayare the four words I repeat at least ten times a minute for the next two days straight.
13
Beau
“Beck Reid, you like me.”
“You sure this is a good idea, man?” Atticus asks. He’s sitting on the top step of Beck’s porch, his grease-stained henley and dirt-laden pants making him look a little homeless. Pair that with his signature scowl and Atticus can look downright scary sometimes. Now, though, his face is impassive as he rests his chin in his hands, elbows to his knees.
One worn work boot nudges me.
“Yo, you sure this is a good idea? I mean, this chick, she ain’t even your girl.”
Bristling at his comment, I get to my feet and hop off the porch, pacing a fucking line into the concrete. “She’s a woman, not a chick.”
He shows me his work-stained hands in an act of contrition. “I’m not tryin’ to add to your…mood.”
“And sheismy girl,” I seethe, completely taking my shit out on Atticus yet again. I mean, we may not have labeled anything yet, but it’s beenweeksof talking almost fucking daily.
Silence stretches between us, though I know it isn’t peaceful silence because Atticus doesn’t take his eyes off me. Finally, I shove my hands through my hair, pulling at the ends in frustration.
“What?”
He licks his lips, staring at me in a moment of thought.
“What?” I ask again, hating the shrill irritation straddling my tone but fuck. I am so… so many goddamn things right now; I’m about one fucking minute away from driving to her parents’ house.
“She knows, then?” The way even his rough voice sounds timid and quiet somehow angers me even more, which I didn’t think was possible.
Like the universe knows I’m one stubbed toe away from freaking the fuck out (even more than I already am), my phone rings. Anxious and hopeful, I dig it out of my pocket and answer before I even check the screen.
“Beck?”
The person on the other line clears his throat. “Uh, no, Beau. This is Tobias.” He takes a beat, and I’m glad he does because I haven’t thought about any of the board members of Wrench Kings in a while. It takes me that time to realize just who he is, right as he clarifies, “Toby Alderson.”
I have a solid memory of Toby holding my dad’s golf bag while he putted on the last hole of an eighteen-hole course. We were tired; dad was already withering away at that time but refused to give up outings with his team. He dropped his club and struggled to nab it when my eyes met Toby’s.
I’m sure I saw him at dad’s funeral, but I was so drunk that I have no memory of it.
“Toby, hi.” I could sayI’ve been meaning to callorI’m sorry I’ve left you hanging. I could say a lot of things, but I only have one thing on my mind, and it’s got nothing to do with Toby and the Wrench Kings.
“Beau, I know it’s been a hard year, son, but we need to talk. Roberta and I would come to you. Can we do that? Soon?”
Of all the things, the word I zero in on is “son” and what it means to me now. I run a hand through my hair, glancing at Atticus, whose intense glare makes me nervous. I can’t blame him for caring, but it’s all more stress than I can handle right now.
“I’ll call you later, okay?” I say, visoring my hand above my eyes to peer down the street at the approaching car. Holy shit, it’s her. “I promise I’ll call you in a week, okay Toby? But I really gotta go.”
I hang up, sliding my phone into my pocket, watching the car grow larger as it hedges nearer.
“Do I gotta make sure you call him back?” Atticus’s rough timbre returns as he adds, “Beau, call him back. You hear me?”
I wave him off. “I will.”
“Yeah, you will,” he grits, rising to his feet.
I hear him move behind me, but I’m focused on the vehicle and don’t notice him at my side until Beck gets out of the car and looks at him first, then me.