Page 25 of Lone Star Longing
Lacey stopped herself from letting out a long sigh. She’d tried to do the right thing. She couldn't be responsible if Mrs. Conover didn't accept. She would rather not have the woman over judging her housekeeping and her cooking anyway.
“All right, then, I’ll check on you in a couple of days, and pretty soon you should be able to get back out to your house.” Lacey packed her equipment away as she spoke.
Mrs. Conover brightened at that. “How is it coming? Did you see it?”
“No, I don't go inside, I just open the door and let them in, then head to my next job.” The temptation had been great to sneak a peek, but she’d resisted. “I didn't want to go inside while you’re not there, and I didn't think I should see it before you do.”
“That’s good. That’s good. I didn't think about that, but that’s good.”
“I’ll see you in a couple of days,” Lacey repeated, and opened the door to see Beck standing there, hand poised to knock. She took a step back, stopping herself from lifting her hand to her heart in shock.
“Hey, Lacey. I thought that was your car.”
“What are you doing back so soon? I thought you were going to California after Las Vegas?”
“I decided I needed to take a leave of absence.”
“But I thought this was the season, or whatever, for racing? That your driver needed you there? That it was impossible for you to take off?”
He gave her a self-deprecating smile. “Well, it turns out I’m not as indispensable as I thought I was.”
Lacey stared for a moment. “You were fired.”
“It was a mutually-agreed-upon parting,” he said, edging past her into the room. “I needed not to be there any more.”
“But the money.” She still had those hundreds tucked away in her purse. She had driven out to the house four times, but she didn't need to be paid a hundred dollars a time. “I have your cash...”
He held up a hand and gave a chuckle. “I’ve got money put aside, don't worry about me. Not sure what I’ll do next, but I’m going to stick around a while. Work on the house. Get it where it needs to be. Then I’ll worry about the next step.” He turned to his mother. “Does that sound okay to you? Can I stay at the house with you while I get it in shape?”
“I don't know,” Mrs. Conover said, her voice caustic though Lacey could see the emotion in her eyes. “You didn't want to share a motel room with me to save money. Will you be able to live in the same house?”
“I think we’ll be able to do okay,” he said with a smile. “Once we get that bathroom in working order.”
Lacey slipped out the door to give them privacy, her heart lifting. She would not read too much into that reaction. She was glad for Mrs. Conover’s sake, that was all. Not hers. Not hers at all.
*****
WHAT THE HELL WAS HEthinking? Beck should have given into his first temptation and burned the house down, started from scratch. The plumber from Kimmel had done a solid job replacing all the fixtures in the bathroom, though he hadn’t finished off the room. It still needed flooring and paint and new towel racks and a shower curtain rod and toilet paper holder. But Beck could handle that. The biggest challenges were the kitchen and the porch and the roof. He didn't mind hiring people, but he had to be more careful with his money than he’d been in the past, since he didn't know what he was going to do next.
But he hadn’t been able to concentrate on his job, knowing his mother was living in such a bad situation. And yeah, he hadn’t exactly been loyal to Riley, who had had such faith in him when they were coming up together. But Riley could afford the best, and would have Beck replaced before the next race.
Beck knew his mother’s living situation was all his fault. If he’d paid more attention to his mother over the years, the house wouldn't have gotten into such bad shape. His own fault. He’d just wanted out of town so bad, he hadn’t stopped to think about what she needed.
So he would make up for it now and continue with his life once he could leave his mother without feeling guilty.
Which was why he stood in the middle of the living room where he’d grown up and tried to figure out what he was going to tackle first.
The bathroom, he figured. He’d finish it off, then hit the kitchen.
Yeah. He’d do this. He wouldn't think about five-star hotels, and seeing the country, and meeting girls. He was going to put family first. Lacey did it, so he could, too. That was the kind of man he wanted to be, the kind of man he should have always been.
*****
STAYING IN HIS CHILDHOODbedroom was weird as hell. Exhausted, he stretched out on the twin sized bed with the same bedspread he’d had growing up that smelled a little musty from disuse, and looked at the ceiling that had a crack from right over there in the corner. Had that always been there? He didn't remember.
He did remember resenting his younger brother Conrad moving into his space, and staying there until he, too, fled this town for literal greener pastures. Conrad was a cop near Houston. But Marcus had been the oldest, so had his own room. Sara was the only girl. Beck and Conrad had to share.
Beck had the window cracked because the next item on the agenda, moved way up really quickly, was a central air conditioning unit. His mom had window units in her room and the living room, but every other room in the house was just straight-up miserable so, yeah, she would argue, but he was insisting, since he was paying for it. They’d never had central air growing up, and he supposed he’d been used to it, then, but he wasn't any more and he didn't have to be, damn it.
