Page 12 of Beck & Coll
“I didn’t meet her when I was fresh out of the service. Let me keep it a buck… When I was in my twenties, I belonged to the streets. I was a wild boy, doing wild boy shit. There was a lot of sex, drinking, and partying. By the time I landed in D.C., I had matured. I was past the stage of collecting women like objects and tossing them back once I was done with them. My ex met me when I was ripe for the picking. She was pretty, smart, driven, and decisive. We went on one date, and the next thing I knew, we were a couple. Everything was everything. We agreed to be exclusive. Eventually, we moved in together, and life kept moving forward.
“I never meant to pull the rug out from under her. I was cool in D.C. My mom’s family’s from there. I have cousins, aunts, uncles, and even a set of grandparents there. I never had negative feelings about the place while I was there. I liked my job. I liked my girl. I liked our place. I never expected a three-day visit back to Oregon to turn my world upside down.” I finished the last of the food in my disposable container, brushed my hands together, and stood. “My bad.” I bent my head with my apology. “I’ve been unloading on you the entire time.”
“You’re fine.” She threw a hand up dismissively. “This story is good. Continue.”
I started to collect my trash. “I’m gonna go ahead and get out of your way.”
“You’re not in my way, Beckham. You’re keeping me company. I like talking to you.”
“Clearly, I like talking to you, too. Got me over here running off at the mouth.”
She started to gather her trash as well. “Sir, I’m a hair stylist. It’s literally like being an unlicensed therapist. People naturally tend to open up to me. Don’t be self-conscious about it. Just finish the story. Besides, aren’t you supposed to stick around and watch me to make sure I don’t have a concussion or that I don’t fall asleep or something?”
The bark of laughter that came from me made her smile. “Look at you, having no shame at all about being all up in my business.”
“I’m invested in the story. You don’t tell somebody that your ex girl put her hands on you and then called the cops on you without finishing the story. Did you have your cousins and them handle her? She knows better than that. I don’t care how pissed you are. You don’t involve the police. That’s how innocent Black men get killed.”
What I wanted to say was, “Yeah, that was some bullshit.” But I wanted to keep it as professional as I could. Plus, I had already told her way more of my business than I had told anybody, except my brothers.
Instead, I said, “Nah. That wasn’t cool. Suffice it to say that I moved out of our shared apartment that night and into a hotel.”
“I don’t blame you.”
She moved to the kitchen to toss out her trash. I followed her into the kitchen and tossed my trash as well.She tried to move past me, but our bodies touched.
“Uh, sorry.”
Heat emanated throughout my body at the contact, even though it only lasted a second or so.
“Sorry,” she repeated.
I placed a hand on each of her forearms in an effort to steady her, though she didn’t need to be steadied. My mind just instructed my body to touch her, and that was the only feasible way for me to make that command happen.
“You okay?” I didn’t step back right away, keeping her sandwiched between my body and the trash can. Then with the realization that I could scare her, I took four steps backward, giving her plenty of room to move away.
“I’m okay. I didn’t realize you were right behind me, and this kitchenette is so little.”
“You’re right. It wasn’t built for my big ass.”
“You are pretty big. How tall are you?”
“Six feet five inches.”
She looked me up and down but didn’t speak for a moment. “Beckham,” she said finally, “you really don’t have to hang around here babysitting me. You took me on a gorgeous hike, fed me delicious food… You’re off duty, sir. I’m sure you have a hundred and one other things you need to be doing. I feel fine. I’m almost positive that I don’t have a concussion.”
There were definitely other things that I could be doing, but I didn’t want to do any of those things as much as I wanted to be in her presence. But for the sake of not looking thirsty or coming off like a creep, I nodded my agreement.
“Cool.”
Before I even turned away from her, the sky brightened with a streak of lightning that was quickly followed by a clap of thunder so loud that the windows of the cottage rattled. Next thing I knew, the sound of raindrops furiously pounding the roof echoed through the space.
“I’ve been getting alerts on my phone about this storm. It seems like it’s gonna be bad. They’re saying that there might be some flooding,” she told me.
“Yeah.” I gave a nod of my head, as I checked the most updated forecast on my own phone. “I’m not too crazy about what I’m seeing. If this storm does what they’re predicting it to do… I’m a little worried about Papa River out there.”
“Why?”
“He has a tendency to overrun his banks.”
