Page 4 of Beckon

Oh yeah, he was living his best domestic dream life for as long as his sleep held out. He knew he’d wake to the reality that he was too fucked up for any of that. But for the night, he was sinking into a dream.

A nice average dream.

2

TAMITHA

“Well,heck. This is not how I expected the ride to go.” Tamitha didn’t talk to herself silently in her head most of the time. One of her many quirks as she liked to call them. Over the years, she’d learned to keep the volume at a low murmur so others didn’t hear. The operating manual for internal dialogue never downloaded to her brain properly to say the least.

She had learned to use internal thoughts in certain social situations, but it still didn’t come easy to her. It was a long, thought out and unnatural process and she hated doing it. It was frustrating and left her feeling itchy all over. She needed to talk things out.

That didn’t mean she’d stopped trying to learn, but right now, why? It wasn’t like he could hear her. And when she was nervous it was either babble or eat.

It had taken her years to embrace her oddities rather than fight against them. Reese had really been key to her settling into herweirdness. He’d always encouraged her to be herquirky self, especially for Chester. They’d never wanted their kids to water themselves down for anyone. So, when they started their little family, it was a promise they’d made to each other.

Sadly, there was nosat the end of kids, Reese was taken from them before their family could grow by more than Chester.

Her sadness didn’t haunt her as it once had. If it did, she wouldn’t be trying to extricate herself from a situation she shouldn’t have put herself in in the first place.

Tami should’ve just got her ride in his door like any human being would have and left. Instead, she couldn’t stomach the thought of him hurting himself or worse, aspirating on his own vomit and dying.

“Dramatic much?” Actually, it wasn’t all that dramatic. The man was drunk with a capital D and a ruuuuunnnk on the end. And somehow, he still looked lost. Not, theI don’t know where I livelost, but anI don’t know if I want to livekind of lost.

There was no way Tami could just leave a man like that. Her caring may be the kindness that changes his life, or at least gave him pause to think. She couldn’t—or wouldn’t—count the times a stranger’s kindness saved her life.Literally.

Actually, she could count them.

Seven.

The first year following Reese’s death, it was seven.

Seven times someone saved her life and didn’t even know it.

Even though it was Chester who anchored her, it was strangers who gave her enough pause to see that. Her son was the ultimate reason she didn’t give up.

The thought of leaving him was repugnant, always had been. But she was so blinded by grief in the beginning that she couldn’t see it. She recognized a similar look in the drunk man’s chocolate-brown eyes when they were open. Maybe she could be one of his seven strangers.

Once he was laid out on his open sofa bed, she’d immediately started rummaging through his cabinets. “I’m not a creep or anything, I’m looking for ibuprofen.” She silently scolded herself for talking aloud.How weird is that?She could scold herself internally, but not process information that way.

She chattered away while getting him a glass of water.

After setting both on the side table by the sofa, she nodded her head at his position. Turned to his side with a trash can within reach. As she tried to leave again, she was halted by his cries.

The man was clearly tormented. For a moment, she just stared and remembered how many times she’d cried in her sleep, and no one was there to comfort her.

Those nights, she’d internalized a lot as soon as she heard herself because she didn’t want to wake her son. “Internalize is a bit of an oversell. I just moved to the bathroom, climbed into the tub, and muffled my cries. As far away from my sleeping kid as I could get so he could sleep.”

Without thinking, she sat on the sofa bed next to the stranger and petted his short brown hair. He responded much like her son did and quieted a little, turning into her touch and reaching out like she was the most important thing on the planet.

She stroked his head and sang. Eventually, he quieted, but she sang on. Singing was just emotional talking, and she loved to talk. It’s how she expressed herself and it was helping him.

Tami finished singing four songs, and he seemed at peace. That made her smile. Somehow, he’d tossed his leg over her lap and held her around the waist.

“Okay, Tami. You can do this,” she coached herself as she unwound herself from the stranger and headed for the door again.

Right before it could click closed, she caught it. “A note. I should leave a note.” A quick search of his kitchen drawers yielded what she needed. Realizing he kept his junk drawer in the same place she did, made her smile.

“Now what do I write?” She remembered she didn’t even know his name. The bartender had said his friend ordered the ride and asked her to take it easy on rating the fare.She would never rate them poorly, even if they puked in her car. She took the late-night bar calls because no one else wanted to risk it. To her, the risk was not giving them a ride. Having to shampoo her seats would be nothing by comparison.

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