Page 144 of Ransom

Becca winces, but a look of determination quickly wipes it away. "Still better than?—"

"Than what? Dying?" The words taste bitter. "That's what she said when I begged her to reconsider. Said she'd rather have three good months than six awful ones."

Scowling, she studies the group, arguing again at the water table. "But Max?—"

"Is exactly why she's choosing this." I glance over at them too, loving how much fun Max is having. He's getting to be a kid for a while, and I'll stand here all day watching him play if it keeps that look on his face. "She wants him to remember her living, not..." I swallow hard. "Not hooked up to machines, too weak to hug him."

Becca's quiet for a moment. "That's what she told you?"

"Among other things." I force a weak smile. "She said quality over quantity. That she's lived a full life, gotten to be a mom like she always wanted."

"Sounds like making lemonade out of big fucking lemons."

"Maybe. Probably. Every time I think I've accepted it, I find myself trying to change her mind again."

"Because you love her."

"Yeah," I say, staring sightlessly at the sand tables. "But it's her choice. And maybe she's right—maybe it would be selfish of me to demand she suffer through more treatment just so I can keep her longer."

"I don't think that's selfish," Becca says, sighing. "I gotta admit, I don't get her. Cancer fucking sucks. I watched it take my dad, and I wouldn't wish it on anyone except shitty human beings. But to just not try?"

"It's just... hard to hope sometimes. To keep thinking maybe this time will be different, then having it all crash down again."

"Sounds like you're not just talking about Maggie anymore." Becca's eyes bore into me. "Maybe about a certain tall, brooding guy who's about to bitch slap my husband over a fucking moat?"

Huh. Yeah, that's totally happening. They're nose to nose, slapping at each other's hands in the sand. Laughing, I turn back to Becca. "We already talked about Ransom yesterday."

"Yeah, but I'm fascinated by him." Becca leans against the wall beside me. "And you knew him before. Like, the original Ransom Kyle. That's fucking mythic."

I snort. "Mythic? He was just a scared kid trying to figure shit out."

"See? That right there. You knew him when he was still becoming... him." She waves toward where Ransom, apparently over his issue with Kade, is helping Max pack sand into a bucket. "The rest of us only know the finished product."

"There's nothing finished about Ransom Kyle." I shake my head. "He changes the game so fast I have whiplash. One minute he's all business, trying to buy my shop, then all of a sudden—" I can't finish it. Then all of a sudden he has feelings.

"Ah." Becca's expression softens. "That's what you meant about hoping in vain."

"I didn't mean?—"

"You loved him. He left. You hoped he'd come back, and he didn't." She ticks off points on her fingers. "Then you finally moved on, and boom—here he is again."

"It's not that simple."

"Never is with Ransom." Becca shrugs. "But you're the only one who knew him before all this." She gestures at the science center. "Before the money and the family and everything else. You knew him when he was just... Ransom."

I watch him laugh at something Max says, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "Yeah, I did."

"So tell me—is he really that different now?"

I study Ransom as he gently wipes sand from Mia's cheek. His clothes are casual—worn jeans and a henley that probably cost more than I make in a week. But the way he moves is different now. Graceful, controlled.

"He used to be such a klutz," I say, half to myself.

"What?" Becca turns to me.

"Ransom. He was still growing into himself back then. All arms and legs, like a newborn colt." I can't help but smile at thememory. "He'd be walking into the kitchen and just... fall. For no reason."

"No way." Becca's eyes widen. "Any chance you have video?"

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