They both looked down at the markings.
“This is how I want to live my life, so sometimes when things are out of focus and crazy I just have to look and remember. I think about my brother Teague, who’s in Somalia or Tucker who’s lost a hell of a lot, more than any man should. I think about my mother who battled cancer a few years ago and won. I think of her grace and strength. Those things keep me grounded. They keep me real. My world is filled with parasites and ass-kissers and it’s sometimes hard not to buy into their shit.”
Betty’s eyes smarted and she shook her head, wiped at them with the back of her hand. “Sometimes the remembering is hard. Sometimes it’s easier to forget.”
“Yeah,” Beau said softly. “I know. But when you start to forget all the things that make you who you are, that’s when you begin to lose yourself.”
He paused and she waited.
“Don’t ever lose yourself, Betty. That would be tragic.”
Betty cleared her throat, suddenly overwhelmed and more than a little rattled. She did what she always did in a situation like this. She wiped the slate clean and moved on. She didn’t want to engage because she didn’t know what to say to that. She’d been trying to lose herself for so long that she didn’t know how to be any other way.
“Well aren’t you just a big fat downer.” She moved past Beau and pointed to the bag as she fell onto the blanket. “I hope you have food because I’m starved.”
Chapter Twenty-two
“I GOTTA TELL you Beau, water, chips and granola bars aren’t exactly my idea of a hot date.”
Beau glanced over to Betty who was on her back, eyes closed, arms flung above her head and those long, sexy legs of hers, crossed at the ankles. She’d tossed her sandals and he noticed how delicate her bright pink toes looked. Her hair fanned out around her head, a dark halo of silk, and her tight, form fitting tank top cupped her breasts in the way any tight, form fitting tank top should.
With care.
It was white and it was also obvious she wore a black bra. He smiled. Rebel.
“So, this is a date?” he said, his voice low.
Her eyes flew open. “Wait? What?”
“You just said—”
“I know what I said but that’s not what I meant.” She struggled to sit and he was pretty sure if he wasn’t there, she would have attempted to cross her legs, but since he was, and her skirt was on the short side, she leaned back, resting her weight on her elbows.
“Why am I here, Beau? What is it that you want to talk about?”
Beau was silent at first. He had no idea where her head was at and he decided his best option was to be honest. To lay it all out and hope for the best.
“Are you going to do the movie?”
Betty glanced away from him, her gaze out on the water. In the distance, clouds were gathering, bulbous gray marshmallows that told him rain was on the way.
Her toes moved erratically as if she had a tick that wouldn’t go away and he was starting to think he’d lost—that she was going to shoot him down—when she collapsed once more, arms flung across her eyes and spoke.
“Yes.”
It was one word. One simple word.
But it was enough.
His gaze rested on the three tears that fell across her skin in black ink and something inside him twisted. It twisted hard.
“Good,” he said softly. His hand moved toward her—it hung suspended in the air for several long seconds—but then he rolled onto his back and stared up at the sky.
There were no more words. There was just the sound of the children in the water and of their parents and friends joining in. There was Betty’s deep, even breaths, and eventually a small whimper that told him she was asleep.
And sleep is where he joined her not long after.
Beau came awake with a start and it took him a few moments to figure out where he was.