Page 42 of Dibs
“Thanks, Aspyn. He seemed resolute about the cleaning team, so I didn’t try to change his game plan. Anyway, I’m sure the offers will roll in despite it being winter. The major snow hasn’t started yet, and Dad has offered a quick closing. I guess the house he wants is vacant, and they will allow a quick close, too.”
“He’s already found a new place?” Beck asks, drumming her fingernails along her hardback book.
“Yeah, in a fifty-five and up community not too far from here. He’ll be even closer to you and me, Deac.” Steele kicks his feet up on the recliner.
“We’ll have to have him over to dinner when he gets settled,” Beck decides sweetly. “Your dad probably needs us now more than ever. It helps to keep busy.”
“He’s working a lot. Keeping himself busy to distract from the grief, I’m sure,” I tell my brother and Beck.
“That sounds about right,” Aspyn agrees. When silence stretches out between us, she asks, “So, Steele, what’s been happening with you? Will you be bringing a girlfriend home anytime soon? Popping out some babies?” Beck gives him a half-smile as she quizzes him.
He gives his usual answer.
“I’ve got thirty babies at school. Currently, no prospects, and I’m so busy, I hardly have time to meet anyone. But don’t worry about me.”
“You’re not getting any younger, Mr. Thirty-One-Year-Old,” Beck teases him. “Sorry, I hate that line. It’s what people asked me all the time about my relationship with Sean. ‘Where are you and Sean going?’ Well, hopefully the only place he’s going is hell.”
“I think everyone should wait until they’re truly ready anyway. I’m only a year older than Deac, and I don’t see a wedding ring on your finger or hear any babies crying.” Steele teases Beck right back.
I smile and reply, “Funny how those are the exact things I want.” I shoot Steele a smile.
“Heard. This is me swooning.” Beck places the back of her hand on her forehead and tilts her head back in a mock-swoon and then winks at me.
“Not telling you anything you don’t already know, love.” I get up and walk over to her, kissing her deeply right in front of Steele, who immediately covers his eyes but peeks through two fingers jokingly. Beck giggles against my lips.
Beside me sits my mother’s giant jewelry box, which she’d placed inside her closet safe.
“Ooh, I have lots of jewelry to fill that with.” Beck’s eyes open wide, and she walks over to the top drawer of her dresser, which we’d recently moved out of storage and into the primary bedroom. The top drawer is lined in velvet, but we’d both prefer if the expensive items stay in the safe.
“I love this ring so much.” Beck takes out the black cushion-cut diamond, and her eyes shine as she stares at it.
“It’s stunning on you, baby,” I tell her. “And it’s sized right?”
“Like it was made for me.” Beck grins. She takes it off her finger and hands it to me. I suddenly know I’m going to use this ring to propose that we start our lives together.
“You’re sure that’s the one you want?” I ask, my heart thumping in my chest until Beck nods and shares a secret smile that tells me we’re on the same page. I bring my mouth to hers and taste her lips.
“That’s part of a set,” Steele says, getting up out of the recliner and digging in the jewelry box. “You must have missedit. Look. It’s a band with black diamonds and rubies all around it. These came together. I remember the day Mom got them.”
Beck’s eyes are wide as saucers, nearly popping out of her skull, as she spots the band Steele is holding out. I steal it from him, along with the black diamond ring. They shimmer brilliantly as I hold them up to the light, much flashier than Beck’s usual turquoise, but if she says it’s the one, then it is.
When Beck turns back to talk to Steele, I slip it carefully into my pocket with my heart thrumming in my chest.
If that’s the ring my girl wants to wear, then that’s what she’ll wear for the rest of her life.
I’ve got a plan.
23
ASPYN
As the gloomy November days pass, there’s a day when Deacon is suspiciously out of contact with me. I message him but get no response for most of the afternoon. Nervously and compulsively checking my texts, I finally throw my phone against the couch and give up by around 4 p.m.
While I trust Deacon, I spent ten years with a pathological liar, so I can’t help but confront him when he arrives in time for dinner.
“Where were you today?” I try to sound casual, but Deacon looks up and meets my eyes with a slightly hurt expression, a frown on his face.
“My love, I was busy putting together a surprise for you for tomorrow. All I need is for you to trust me and let me pack an overnight bag for you. You’ll want to dress for the weather. We’ll leave around three-thirty, all right?” Deacon’s gentle voice reminds me that he’s trustworthy, and my hang-ups are the reason I’ve made this an issue. Come to think of it, it may be time to return to therapy. I don’t want to bring my insecurities from my last relationship into forever, which is how long I intend to spend with Deacon.
