Page 68 of Uproot

Her overenthusiastic greeting gives me a slight headache as I pull Selah inside. We step into a large foyer with a big, winding staircase in front of us. The two small dogs that were making a racket stop barking, and come over to smell us curiously as Bianca closes the door, turning to assess Selah and I from head to toe.

I decided to dress more formally in a nice black, buttoned-down shirt and slacks for this dinner since Selah put on a pretty little pink dress tonight. She even did her hair up into this intricate updo of braids and curls that I desperately want to mess up as soon as I get her back home.

Home for us has become my little rental tucked away in the woods. She goes to her house once in a while to check on things, or water flowers, but I moved Willy’s fishbowl over to the living room in my rental so she wouldn’t have to worry about him. Anything I could do to bribe her to spend more time with us.

It didn’t take too much convincing.

She’s been moving forward in every way, eating more meals without me reminding her, and feeling more confident about herself. I’ll be damned if this little “family dinner” sets her back even half a step from all of the progress she’s made.

“It’s nice to meet you. I’m Bianca,” Selah’s mother greets me, holding out her hand, the same wide smile plastered on her face.

“Pleasure to meet you, ma’am. I’m Beckett,” I respond, shaking her hand lightly before handing her the bottle of wine. “This is for you.”

Her eyes widen as she looks over the tattoos on my hands before regaining her trophy wife smile. “Oh, thank you! And no need for “ma’am’s” here! It makes me feel so dreadfully old,” she laughs, waving her hand through the air. “Come on into the dining room. Dinner is almost done.”

We follow behind her through a hallway that is lined with pictures. I see an older Black man in a few of the pictures with Bianca, and pictures of another man and woman who look about my age.

The entire hallway holds framed photos, but I don’t see a single one with my Selah in it. I grind my jaw, counting to ten in my head so I don’t start this evening off on the wrong foot and begin calling out the bullshit I’m already seeing. Surely there must be a picture of my girl somewhere in this damn house, so for now I bury my irritation.

We step into a huge kitchen and walk through it to a dining room where the older man I saw in the hallway pictures is sitting, tapping away on a cell phone.

Selah’s stepfather, Carey, looks older than the photos he was in. More grey hair covers his head, and his face looks more weathered. I know that Selah said he is quite a bit older than her mother, but I guess I didn’t realize that he could easily pass for her grandfather instead of her stepfather.

His eyes move over to us as we walk inside, peering at us over the dark rims of his glasses. He sets his phone on the table, standing up as Bianca walks over to him.

“Hunny, this is Beckett, Selah’s friend,” she announces, placing a hand on his arm. “Beckett, this is my husband, Carey Garrett.”

“Actually, I am Selah’sboyfriend. Nice to meet you, Sir,” I correct, stepping in front of him to shake his hand.

He arches an eyebrow, glancing at Selah as he shakes my hand. “Boyfriend? Well, nice to meet you, Beckett,” he responds gruffly, nodding at Selah before shuffling back to his seat.

“Come on. Have a seat both of you,” he grumbles, pointing to the empty chairs at the large table. “Bianca, get them something to drink. You like bourbon, Beckett?”

I pull out a chair at the table for Selah, shaking my head, “No, thank you. Water will be fine. How about you, sweetheart?” I ask, looking down at Selah.

“Fine for me too,” she responds, sitting down and scooting in.

Bianca takes off to get our drinks, and I notice that Selah and Carey avoid eye contact with each other. He picks back up his cell phone, poking away as he begins to speak to me again.

“So, Beckett. You and Selah are an item, huh? How did you two meet? Do you work at the elementary school with her?”

Selah stifles a laugh, and I wrap my arm around the back of her chair, giving her an encouraging smile, before turning back to her stepfather.

“No, Sir. I actually don’t live in Upwood full-time. My nephew lives here, and I moved here temporarily to deal with some family issues, and take over has his legal guardian. Selah was actually his teacher,” I explain.

His gaze remains on his phone as he nods his head. Bianca comes back in with our drinks, setting down our glasses and we thank her quietly. She sets down Carey’s plate, and retreats back into the kitchen.

Carey finally looks over at me, “Very interesting. So where do you live full-time then?” He asks, tapping a finger against the table.

“New York. That’s where my business is,” I respond.

Bianca walks back into the room balancing three plates and sets two down in front of Selah and I. “Oh, a business owner? That’s so nice!” Bianca interjects, her eyes flashing withsurprise. “Carey owns three different car dealerships. Two here in Charlestown and a smaller one in Hershton, right hunny?”

“That’s nice,” I respond dryly, looking over at Selah’s plate. She has a small chicken breast with a large salad, while I have a steak and potatoes.

“Do you want to switch with me, beautiful?” I ask, already lifting up her plate. I know she prefers her meat and potatoes over a dry looking chicken breast and greens any day of the week.

She hesitates for a moment, looking at her mother as she goes to take her seat. “I would, yes. Thank you, Beck,” she says quietly, giving me a tense smile.

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