“Where did he go this time?” It feels like my father spends more time away on business trips than he does at home. The man needs to take it easy. Whenever I mention it, he tells me that he loves his job and has no intention of slowing down anytime soon.
“New York, maybe.” Mom lifts her shoulders. “That man is always on the go. At this point, all of the cities blur together.”
“One of these days, he’s going to have a heart attack.” It’s something I think about all the time. I don’t want to lose anyone else. “He needs to stop working so hard and enjoy his life.”
“You’re preaching to the choir, honey. I keep telling him the same thing,” she murmurs, focusing on the carrots and celery she’s chopping, “but you know how he is.”
Yes, I do. He’s a workaholic and I’m not sure if that will ever change.
“Your father’s birthday is coming up soon,” she says, “and I’ve been thinking about booking a cruise for us.”
I perk up. “That’s a great idea!”
She glances at me and quirks her lips into a tentative smile. The sadness that is always present in her eyes vanishes. “It’s been years since we took a vacation.” Looking thoughtful, she pauses before shaking her head. “It must have been before…” Pain flashes in her eyes and she quickly glances at the vegetables on the cutting board.
“I know, Mom,” I say softly. “Don’t ask him, just book it.”
She worries her lower lip. “You really think I should do it?”
“Definitely. That way he’ll be forced to take the time off.”
“True,” she sighs. “I’ll give it some thought.”
I rise to my feet. “Do you need any help with dinner?”
“Nope, it’s all under control.” She looks at the clock on the stove. “It should be ready in an hour.”
“Okay. I’m going up to take a bath and relax a little.” I love my apartment at school, but I miss my jetted tub.
“Take your time, honey. We can eat whenever you’re ready.” She dumps the veggies into a sauté pan. “Maybe we can rent a movie and hang out tonight. Or did you make other plans?”
“I’m all yours.” A low-key evening with Mom is exactly what I need.
She smiles and the last wisps of sadness disappear from her eyes. “I wasn’t sure if you’d want to get together with a few friends and go out.”
“No one is around, they’re all at school.”
“Hmm, I’m sure Beck is back.” She gives me a look chock-full of speculation. “I wondered if you two would drive home together.”
“He asked,” I admit reluctantly, “but I said no.”
“How come?” She uses an oversized wooden spoon to push around the vegetables in the pan. “Beck is such a lovely boy.”
First of all, he is definitely not a boy.
And second—
“No one on the face of this planet has ever referred to Beckett Hollingsworth as lovely.”
She throws a look over her shoulder as her lips tremble upward. “Oh, I don’t know about that. He’s pretty darn lovely to look at, don’t you think?”
My mouth drops open. “Oh my God! Did you seriously say that?”
“I did,” she chuckles. For the first time in forever, there’s a lightheartedness to her. It’s nice to see.
“You know,” she continues before I can recover, “I’ve always thought he had feelings for you.”
“Mom,” I groan, embarrassment licking at my cheeks, “he does not. Trust me on this. Beck has more girls sniffing around him than he knows what to do with.” Which is exactly why I keep shutting down his advances.
Fool me once, shame on you.
Fool me twice, and I deserve everything I get.
Ignoring me, she muses, “Remember how protective he was of you when you were kids? That boy always sat next to you on the bus.” A distant look enters her eyes as if she’s tumbled back in time. “I always felt better knowing he was looking out for you.”
Of course, I remember. It’s probably where my infatuation with Beck stems from.
“He really is a sweet boy. Maybe a little misunderstood. I wish his father wouldn’t be so hard on him.”
I scrunch my nose. “You think Archie is hard on Beck?”
“Yes, I do. He treats Ari like the heir to the kingdom. I’m sure it was difficult for Beck to grow up in his older brother’s shadow. Everything came so easily to Ari. School, athletics, popularity. He never had to work for any of it. And Beck,” she shrugs, “he’s different. Sometimes it seems like no matter how hard that poor boy tries, he will never please Archie.” She glances at me. “When Brianna was alive, you both had your own interests. We tried to cultivate them without making you girls feel like you were in competition with each other.”
That’s true.
Brianna was a gifted artist. She loved to draw and paint. Even though she did well in school, math was always a struggle. Academics came easier to me. And picking up a tennis racket felt like second nature. My parents attended both art shows and tennis tournaments. They never made us feel like one was more favored or important than the other. We each had our own talents, and when one of us did well, they always applauded it.