Page 38 of Uproot

"My mother is always making excuses for his attitude, even though it's plain as day how he feels. She's just happy to be living a better life," I say.

"How can her life be better if you two don't get along?" he asks.

I twist my mouth, feeling a little embarrassed to be telling him the worst parts of my life. But he gives me a reassuring look, and I decide to continue.

"I-um. We didn't really have a lot of money at all when I was growing up. My dad worked hard, but he was a school janitor and didn't make much money. My mother worked part time as a seamstress. We lived in a tiny two-bedroom trailer that always needed some kind of repairs done to it," I explain, recalling the memories of having buckets in our living room on more than one occasion when it stormed.

"I worked after school and tried to help my mom as much as I could when my dad passed, but things were even harder for us. Then my mom started dating Carey. Now she doesn't have to work at all, and lives in a nice big house just outside of downtown."

Beckett scowls as he continues to look out of his windshield. "But her only biological child was unhappy. So that shouldn't have been the happiest time in her life. She shouldn't have ignored your feelings Selah," he insists.

"That's just life sometimes," I mutter. “Even though her actions still hurt, it's much easier to handle both of them now that we don't live as close to each other.”

"What about you? I know you said that your dad passed away, but you've never mentioned your mom," I ask, ready to change the subject.

"My mom, Charlotte, died when I was only two years old. I don't remember her," he explains, glancing over at me. "My father told me he was devastated when she died, but felt like I needed a mother figure to take care of me. Unfortunately, he somehow found the least maternal replacement available," he explains, shaking his head. "And that's how Charlie was born just two years after my mother was buried."

I take my turn to rub his hand and comfort him. Our stories feel so similar, losing one parent, and then dealing with a stepparent we really dislike. I can’t imagine having to deal with all of that at such a young age though. I’m thankful that when my mother met Carey I was almost out of high school.

"I'm so sorry, Beckett. That's a lot to happen so early in your life."

He looks down at my fingers tracing over his hand and nods, "It wasn't the easiest growing up with my stepmother and Charlie, but I made the best of it. We have to manage whatever cards we are dealt, right?" he responds, giving me a small smile.

We keep talking and our conversation flows so well that I don't even realize that we are in Charlestown until I see us turning onto a familiar road.

"Are we going to Easton's for dinner?" I ask, my eyes widening as I look out of my window.

"We are, yes. Have you been there? The menu looked great when I checked it online," he responds.

"I haven't been there, no. It was just built two years ago, and it's pretty.. expensive," I say, already trying to think of what I'll be able to afford there.

Easton's is a fancy steakhouse that a lot of tourists who come in town for the Brimstone Ski Resort like to dine at. It's way out of the budget I had in mind for going out tonight, and I also have no clue if they have healthy options for me to choose from.

"Well I guess we will be checking it out for the first time together then," Beckett says, looking completely unbothered as he parks his car. "Stay there. I'll open your door, sweetheart."

21

Selah

Dinner at Easton’s is like a savory dream come true.

The intimate dining room is dimly lit, and each table is decorated with a white tablecloth, with flowers and candles in the center. The room itself only holds fifteen tables, and is by reservation only.

The menu is a carnivore's dream, without many light options. I settle on a petite filet mignon with a small garden salad, while Beckett gets a ribeye steak and a loaded baked potato.

We spend our meal talking more about what life was like for both of us growing up, mostly focusing on the good memories we have.

Beckett tells me more about his company and some plans he has for it in the future. He’s so intelligent and passionate about his work that I find myself just sitting entranced as he explains it all to me.

He asks me questions about Edison’s schooling, and I give him more advice to help him get on track with reading and math over the summer.

I keep silently repeating to myself throughout dinner that I can’t be falling for this man who is going to be leaving here soon and probably never looking back, but it gets harder as the night goes on.

Before I know it there is an elaborate dessert menu being set down in front of me, and the waitress gives me a warm smile.

“Oh, I can’t eat another bite,” I say regretfully, handing the menu back to her. “Thank you.”

Beckett frowns, “How about we share something, angel? They have a cookies and cream cheesecake that looks good. Would you like that?”

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