When We Were Young

_Disclaimer: This chapter contains *no* sex; I'm publishing it on here for the people who want to see the end of the book regardless!_

CHAPTER NINE: PRESENT DAY

Novie sat upright.

Beck had dropped the bomb and she responded with the seriousness of Winston Churchill. Before I could come up with anything to handle the situation, Novie stared Beck down and demanded, "What do you mean? I don't have a dad. I have Mom and Auntie Bianca and Auntie SiSi."

"I know that," he replied. Novie crawled off my lap and Beck took her hands. "And you don't ever have to call me 'dad' or live with me or anything like that if you don't want to. But I'm your father. That summer, your mom was my girlfriend, and we made you."

I was swarmed with so many feelings -- anger at him taking this moment from me without asking, fear at how it was going to go from here, and, stronger than it all, relief that the secret was out -- so I decided to just listen and see where they went from here. If he could do this, maybe he could be a dad, as complicated as it would be for everyone.

Novie asked him, her voice shaking again, "Why did you leave us back then?"

Another knife to the gut.

I closed my eyes tight and sighed.

Beck tried to handle it with understanding and softness. He didn't want to make either of us into a villain, and I was thankful for that much. He explained, "Well, like your mom said earlier, I had to go back to school. I didn't know about you when I left."

Novie looked back at me this time. Her eyes were icy sharp. I'd never seen her working so hard to put dots together before -- and this was a hell of a lot of dots for a freshly minted six-year-old to handle. "Why didn't you tell him?"

My turn to sigh. I looked over her head at Beck, whose eyes were unreadable. There was no honest way to sum it up. "It was complicated."

Then she asked Beck, "And why haven't you come back before?"

He shook his head. "Complicated."

So Novie summed it up for us both: "You mean it was stupid."

Beck and I locked eyes. Six years of changes passed between us in that one look.

He said, "Yes, it was stupid."

Finally, a small laugh broke the tension in the room. I don't know which of us laughed first, but all three of us were chuckling at just how very, very stupid it all was after only a second's pause. My body shook and I hardly knew whether I was laughing or crying at that point. It really had all been stupid. Nobody could be so eloquent as a kid when it came down to the heart of the matter.

I sighed and wiped the tears that still lingered on my daughter's cheeks. Tucking a strand of her dark curls back, I told her, "Everyone's stupid when they're eighteen, I promise."

Disbelieving, she asked, "Even Auntie Bianca?"

I snorted. "Especially Auntie Bianca. She had a boyfriend with a motorcycle and she got a belly button piercing without telling anyone."

Then she squinted hard and asked, "Will I be stupid, too?"

"Definitely," Beck replied with a smile. "But you'll have people around you to help you figure it all out."

I pulled Novie into my arms and Beck joined me. We all held each other for a minute until I said, "I think we're just now becoming smart for the first time."

Novie pulled back from the hug, looked between us both for a few moments, and announced matter-of-factly, "I forgive you both for being so stupid forever and I'm happy you're done being stupid. Now can we finish Matilda?"

And that was that.

An hour later, we finished reading Matilda and, like every time before and every time

after, Miss Honey adopts her in the end.

*****

For a while, it was easy between all of us. Novie knew, and she had a million questions. What did we do for our first date? Did her Aunties like Beck? Why wasn't I going to college like Beck? And the dreaded one -- How did we make her, anyway? We did our best to answer what we could, trying to keep the explanations simple and age-appropriate. Her endless curiosity and innocent probing kept us on our toes. We answered as honestly as we could, but half the time, we found ourselves resorting to a laugh and a shrug, telling her the truth: It was stupid.

On a Saturday late in the spring, Novie joined me and Beck in Mr. Joyner's old house, wrapping up the final details of cleaning and sorting so Beck could go back to his life. The once-bustling home now stood quiet, filled with the echoes of our past conversations and the soft rustling of packing tape and cardboard. We moved from room to room, our hands busy but our minds preoccupied.

In the kitchen, I was carefully stacking the last of the dishes into a box labeled "Kitchen Essentials" to be donated. Beck was in the living room, folding up blankets and organizing the final stack of old magazines. Novie, ever the helper, was in the hallway with a roll of packing tape, trying to seal up a box that was teetering dangerously.

"Mom, this box is too full," Novie said, her brow furrowed in concentration as she tried to tape it shut.

I walked over and gently took the box from her. "Let me help with that, sweetie. Why don't you take a break and help Beck in the living room?"

Novie looked at Beck with wide eyes like this was an invitation to a great adventure like The Chronicles of Narnia or The Hobbit. "Can I help you with the blankets, Beck?"

Beck glanced up from his task and laughed. "Of course. There's a special way to fold them so they don't get wrinkled. Want to learn?"

Novie nodded and scampered over to Beck. He demonstrated the fold, showing her how to smooth out the edges and make neat piles, and let her try her hand at it. As Novie slowed him down very cutely, Beck chatted with her, pointing out the different patterns on the blankets.

"You know," Beck said, "My uncle used to tell me stories about where he got these blankets. They were from all the places he traveled."

"Really?" Novie asked with sparkling eyes. "Did he go to lots of places?"

Beck nodded. "Oh, yeah. He loved to travel. That's how he ended up with such a collection. Each blanket has its own story; look at all the pretty colorful embroidery. He rode camels in Morocco and went skydiving in Peru and got stung by a jellyfish in Australia."

Novie repeated these new country names to herself like they were alien planets. She looked at the blankets with fascination as she ran her fingers over the soft fabric. "I didn't know blankets could have stories."

"Everything has a story," Beck replied with a smile. "This whole house has a million stories. Your mom was even in some of them."

I watched from the doorway with a mix of nostalgia and sadness. I may not have been here many times, but the now-bare walls were a reminder that everything had to end.

"Hey, let's take a break," Beck suggested as he looked over to me and noted my expression. "I brought lemonade. It's a beautiful day outside."

"Sounds good," I said, grateful to accept the distraction.

I grabbed a few cups and followed Beck and Novie out to the porch. As we sat on the steps, sipping lemonade and watching the sun cast long shadows across the yard, I felt so sad I could hardly hold it. There was a hard, tightly wound knot right below my heart.

Novie, her face sticky from lemonade, looked up at Beck. "Do you think the new people will like the house?"

"I hope so," Beck said, taking a sip of his own drink. "Just haven't found the right owners yet. Nobody seems to deserve it."

I forced a smile. "I'm sure you will. And they'll make lots of new good memories.

Novie smiled, her lemonade forgotten as she stretched out on the porch steps, looking up at the sky. "I like making new memories."

That same feeling I'd had years ago when Beck left came up again. We were going through stuff in this house and we were dancing and my heart was breaking. Only now it wasn't just my heart; it was my daughter's. I didn't know how to explain to her why he was leaving, much less answer questions about when he'd come back when Beck and I hadn't even talked about that yet. The uncertainty loomed large, and I struggled with the weight of not having a clear answer for her.

At the end of the day, with the house completely empty and the final truck driving away, we went out front and sat on the lawn. As we sat there, the air cool and the sky painted in shades of pink and orange, the weight of the day seemed to lift just a little. The quiet of the evening settled around us, and the sound of the cicadas filled the air.

Unexpectedly, Beck took out some photos from his backpack. He must've found them in the house or, knowing Beck, had been holding on to them for days, waiting for the right moment to break them out. He said to us both, "I thought you might want to see these, maybe."

He handed the stack to me first. My heart welled up as I saw the pictures. They were pictures of the two of us from that summer: on the beach, in the backyard, on our fancy date. He had a whole pile of them an inch thick. I hadn't even caught him taking half of the pictures; there were candids of me with the sun on my face and the moon in my hair.

As I flipped through the photos, a wave of nostalgia washed over me. There we were, carefree and laughing, moments I'd nearly forgotten in the rush of life. The photos were a beautiful, tangible reminder of that magical summer, a time when everything felt so perfect and uncomplicated. I handed them back because I didn't want to cry.

Novie clambered over to Beck, her eyes wide with curiosity. She reached out a demanding little hand and said, "Let me see, Daddy."

When Novie said it, I gasped.

The word was a sudden, unexpected gust of wind, catching me off guard.

Beck and I exchanged stunned glances, our eyes wide and helpless.

Novie didn't even notice my reaction. She just climbed up into Beck's lap with the eagerness of a child discovering a treasure chest. Beck looked down at her, his expression holding a million different emotions at once -- joy and regret and love. He handed her the photos, and she began flipping through them, excited and focused.

"Oh, look!" Novie exclaimed, pointing at one of the pictures. "That's us playing in the sand last week! And here's you, Mommy, with a funny hat! And my birthday party! And-"

Beck and I watched as Novie's face lit up with each new discovery. She narrated each and every piece of a puzzle she was slowly putting together. There was a tenderness in Beck's gaze as he observed his daughter, and I felt yet another huge swell of emotion in my chest that threatened to break on the unprepared shore any second.

*****

The next afternoon, all of us -- Beck, me, Novie, my sisters, Sienna's husband, and Novie's cousins -- planned to go down to the beach with a few overloaded baskets to have kind of a goodbye party for Beck. Cloudy but lovely, it was too cold out for bikinis and swimming but just right for a picnic. I made sure Novie had plenty of extra layers packed in my bag for after the sunset in a couple of hours.

Before Beck came by to pick us up at Bianca's, having moved into a hotel now that his uncle's place was empty, Novie and my sisters insisted that this was a special occasion and we all had to dress up. Novie had picked out her brown corduroy skirt with a ruffled cream shirt. From her own closet, Bianca pulled out a simple linen dress I love to wear on a day outside. It was modest but cute, off-white enough that it was easy to conceal stains, and flattering even on the days I wasn't crazy about my body.

I shoved her lightly on the arm. "When did you steal this from me?"

"Last time I dropped off Novie." She snickered and added, "In my defense, we're still the same size, but you have a single mom's wardrobe and I don't. I needed a cute outfit."

I rolled my eyes. "You could've just asked."

"As if." She handed it over to me and said, "If you wear it, you and Novie will match."

Sienna, hopped up on her third-trimester hormones, cut in, "That's just too sweet, Mari, you have to."

"No problem," I replied and took the dress.

"Let's paint each other's nails," Sienna said next, "like when we were little."

Bianca grabbed a bottle of polish from her collection on the countertop. "You'll need someone else to do your toes anyway with how big that belly's gotten."

Sienna rubbed her bump affectionately. "Luca's going to be big and strong just like his daddy and his aunties."

Novie scrunched up her face in annoyance. "Another boy cousin?"

"You'll just have to keep being the special one." I kissed the top of her head. "Take a seat and I'll paint your nails, hm?"

Novie excitedly dropped down on one of the chairs in Bianca's bathroom. Having three young kids meant there was always somewhere to sit. Since they were boys, though, they were already downstairs in the outfits Bianca had picked for them, playing some video game, their fighting voices drifting upstairs every once in a while. Sienna's husband supervised them -- poorly, admittedly, but that was to be expected since he wasn't a dad quite yet.

I took Novie's hand in mine and got to work with a polish that matched both of our outfits. "Then you can do mine, if you want."

Novie shook her head, which surprised me. "Auntie SiSi told me she learned how to do French fry tips and I want to see."

I laughed and corrected, "Just 'French' tips, honey."

"Oh. That's boring."

"I agree. 'French fry' it is." I chuckled as I blew on her nails to help them dry. "You look so pretty, Novie."

She gave me a smile and a kiss on the cheek. "You do, too, Mom."

While we waited for Beck to arrive, we helped each other get ready. Bianca painted Sienna's toes and Sienna did my nails in shiny cream French tips, as ordered. I twisted Bianca's hair into an updo and she curled mine so that my natural waves shined. Novie got a braid down her back to keep her hair out of her face; I knew that, as soon as she was on the beach, her current decorum would go out the window and she'd be splashing her cousins with freezing water. Sienna insisted that I wear Mom's pearl earrings, which we almost never took out, and I accepted. They were clearly trying to make me feel good about Beck leaving soon; I'd learned how to be gracious instead of resentful since the last time he went away.

Beck honked the car downstairs. We checked over ourselves in the mirror one more time before heading down the steps. We'd packed up a few picnic baskets and, of course, beach bags for the blankets and the kids and everything else we might need. As we stepped outside into the warm spring air, I grinned as I realized Beck hadn't brought his old truck but the Porsche he'd be shipping across the country, its convertible top down and Beck smiling for us in the driver's seat.

He got out of the car and went to the passenger's side, ready to open the door.

"The no-roof car!" Novie squealed and ran toward Beck. "Do I get to go?"

Beck pulled her up into his arms, spun her around, and told her, "Sorry, princess, only two seats and your mom has automatic dibs."

She looked back over her shoulder to glance at me. "Are you two going to kiss?"

Beck pressed his forehead to hers and replied, "Only with your blessing."

She giggled like wind chimes. "Yuck."

Beck set her back down and she scampered over to Bianca's SUV, where she could sit in the back behind her cousins and flick the back of their heads without repercussions.

Beck offered me his hand and opened up the front door. "My lady."

I slid onto the perfectly maintained soft vintage leather seat. Beck went back to the driver's side, put the car into drive, and then slipped his arm around my shoulders. With everything calm for a moment, I looked him over. He'd worn a pair of well-tailored off-white shorts that hugged his strong thighs nicely and a linen button-down. He was casual and radiated sex appeal.

I pointed out, "We match. Did Sienna arrange that for you?"

He gave me a fake-offended look. "I am capable of dressing myself, you know."

"Well," I replied, resting my head on his comforting arm, "we should at least get a picture, then, and maybe have it framed. Novie wore the same colors, too. It'll be far too cute to miss out on."

He chuckled. "Deal. I need a new phone background, anyway."

"That's really sweet."

"I try."

"We both know you don't have to."

For a few more minutes, I savored the wind in my hair and his arm around me. Maybe there was a future for me and Beck. We could make a long-distance relationship work for a while and then...I cut myself off. I learned a long time ago that daydreaming wasn't good for me.

We went to a more secluded part of the bay than we usually did, a ways away from home, with a rocky outcropping up above the shoreline. My sisters spread out a few blankets and weighed them down with heavy rocks while the kids ran around, always ready to get out more energy. Sienna's husband set up a portable speaker to blast lighthearted summer pop while my heavily pregnant sister staked in some lights, insisting on doing it herself. Bianca got to work building a fire so that it would be low and ready for s'more after sunset.

Beck looked around at the scene with a mix of appreciation and melancholy. The work he had come here to do for his uncle was done, and the reality of his return to DC was settling in. He wasn't entirely sure when he would leave yet, but the pile of lab reports on his desk back at the office was calling him back. As he took in the sight of our makeshift farewell party, I could see a thoughtful expression on his face.

Novie had run off with her cousins already, chasing them relentlessly down the beach, so I stood next to Beck. I put my hand gently on his upper back and sighed. "It's always hard to leave her."

Just loud enough to be heard, he added, "And you."

"Beck," I replied as I dropped my hand, "I don't want to do this right now."

"Then when?" He didn't say it confrontationally or anything, but it still made me want to throw up. All of this was just too much to think about."We're going to have to figure out all of this sooner rather than later, Mari, for Novie's sake."

"You're right." I sighed again and leaned my head on his shoulder. "You're her dad."

Beck smiled as he watched her run around, then, and echoed, "Yeah, I'm her dad." Then he turned to me and, more serious than he'd ever been, said, "Walk with me up the rocks a ways; I'll make sure you don't fall. We can talk away from your sisters and everyone before we eat."

I nodded gently. "That sounds good."

As Beck and I made our way toward the rocky outcropping, the transition from the sandy and pebbly beach to the jagged rocks felt like stepping into another world. The distant sound of laughter and waves was replaced by the rhythmic crunch of gravel underfoot. Beck moved ahead, his steps sure and deliberate, while I followed with cautious strides.

His hand occasionally brushed against mine as he reached back to steady me, guiding me over uneven patches and up slippery inclines. His touch was steady, reassuring, and there was an unspoken connection in the way he carefully maneuvered me around the more treacherous parts. We knew each other so intimately that he could tell when I was going to stumble. Each time he placed a supportive hand on my back or offered a guiding touch, the warmth of his presence felt more significant against the cooling evening air.

Finally, we reached a flatter section of the outcropping. Beck carefully helped me up onto a large, flat section wide enough for us to face each other. The rocks beneath us were rough and cold, contrasting sharply with the softness of the beach, and the ocean below seemed distant, a dark expanse beneath the twilight sky. As we climbed higher, the view expanded, revealing the vast, darkening sea and the fading light of day. From here, we could still see the kids running around and my sisters chatting on the blanket, but we were in a world all our own.