Page 20 of Mother Pucker

seven

shay

“Shh!Don’t scream! You’ll wake up the entire house, and I really can’t have Livy in a bad mood because she didn’t get enough sleep.”

I blink rapidly, trying to catch my breath as Beckett’s face comes into focus. “Beckett?!” I mumble under his fingers. “What the fuck? You almost gave me a heart attack!”

“I gaveyoua heart attack?” he retorts, dropping his fingers. “For the past ten minutes, I’ve been thinking someone was slaughtering cats out here based on thedreadfulsounds I was hearing.” He squints at my face. “Were youcrying? I thought something was dying a horrible death!”

I wipe the tears from my face. “Shut up, you big jerk. I was just . . . I was . . .” My bottom lip trembles. “Never mind.”

Beckett scrutinizes something near my feet and I quickly step on the contraband to hide it, yelping out, “Fuck!” when it singes my foot.

His amused gaze comes back to me. “You know I can smell it, even if you try to hide it.”

I wrap my arms around my chest protectively. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Beckett ‘Man-Child’ Langfield pauses momentarily before he drops the baseball bat on the lawn and takes a seat on the concrete step next to me. “Want to talk about it? I’m not good with feelings, except when it comes to my wife, but I can give you non-emotional, shut-the-fuck-up-and-stop-feeling-sorry-for-yourself kind of support.”

“Gee, you make it sound so tempting,” I deadpan. A beat of silence passes between us before I scrub my palms down my face. “I bet you think I’m the world’s biggest crock of shit.”

His brows fold as he turns toward me. “Why would I think that?”

I chuckle humorlessly. “Well, let’s see . . . During the day, I put on a facade of having it all together, like I’m this regimented, perfect–”

“No one thinks you’re perfect,believe me.”

I elbow him. “Dick.”

“Pipsqueak.”

I chuckle. “As I was saying, I pretend I’m not a hot mess. I’ve almost convinced myself, in fact, by eating healthy and exercising daily. But the truth is, I’m secretly smoking in the middle of the night so I can clear my head.”

“Is this every night?”

“No. Only when I’m feeling out of control or particularly shitty about myself. But does that make it any better? I tell myself it’s the last time, every time, yet I can’t get rid of the box of smokes, either.”

“Do you bray and squawk like a donkey-hen every time you do it, too?” Beckett winces, bracing himself to be elbowed again.

I glare at him and he chuckles.

“I’m kidding, Pip. But maybe you’re being too hard on yourself. I’m not condoning incinerating your lungs by any means, but from what Liv’s told me, you went through a tough time with the loss of your husband. None of that shit could havebeen easy to watch or accept. I imagine it changed you in ways you hadn’t expected, in ways most people wouldn’t understand unless they went through it themselves.”

I sniffle, nodding. “It made me fearful. It took away my sense of security. And it made me feel like I had to protect whatever was left of the life I had, because everything is so damn fragile–you’re here one moment, gone the next. But I hate feeling this way. I wish I could snap out of it, but I just can’t seem to.”

Beckett shrugs. “Then start small. Don’t tackle the big mountains; start with the little hills first. Find smaller victories where you can. And if your biggest mountain is kicking this habit,” he eyes the cigarette butt on the step below us, “then tackle that last.”

Some of the constriction inside my chest releases. “I thought you sucked at feelings and emotional speeches?”

“Oh, believe me, I do. I was just reciting a recent TED Talk.”

“I don’t believe that for a second. You’re a big softie, but don’t worry, your secret is safe with me as long as my secret,” I eye the cigarette butt, reminding myself to throw it away before anyone else sees it, “is safe with you.”

Beckett snorts. “Tough chance, Pipsqueak. This one is way too juicy, and I don’t keep secrets from my wife.”

My mouth falls agape. “Are you serious? You’re going to tell Liv?”

His jaw ticks. “As serious as a heart attack.” He glances at the remains of my secret on the concrete step. “Pun intended.”

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