Dex gets this smug look on his face. “Next time, I’m not taking the high road.”
“Fair,” I mumble as we go to get his son and my dog separated, which wasn’t exactly the easiest of feats.
Dottie may listen to me, but with some encouragement from Miles and further encouragement from Adam and Tripp…Dex and I got stuck playing a fun little game of hide-and-seek. Dex thought it less fun than me, which I feel slightly bad for since talking to him did give me a bit of clarity.
There’s a peace in knowing that coming home means Jensen’s there and I get to grab ahold of my life-preserver for a bit. However, I have to be sure that this is what we both want now. Neither of us wanted more at the start of this, and I won’t force her to change her mind just as much as I know she wouldn’t force me to either.
Walking in the house, I hang up Dottie’s leash then kick off my shoes by the door. The house feels entirely too quiet so I yell, “Jen, we’re back!”
But unfortunately there’s no answer.
Damn. Pulling out my phone, I send her a text.
You know, as your stalker, I feel I need to have your location on my phone.
Jensen
Now why would I make it that easy for you? I want you to work for it.
You know I love a challenge.
I’ll be home soon. Had to swing by Winedown to help Mia for a bit.
Drive safe.
Sliding my phone back in my pocket, I look down at Dottie. “She said she’ll be here soon. How does the couch and some TV sound in the meantime?”
Dottie lets out a soft bark, which I take as her approval. Plopping down on the couch I wait as Dottie snags one of her toys from her dog bed because that’s all it is now…her toy storage area, then hops up next to me.
“I see we went with the bear.” I pet her back as she lies on her one singular toy that she doesn’t chew. “Too tired to murder any other toys?”
I chuckle when she lets out a huff, but I know this dog could get up and go run another several miles if she knew that was an option.
I go for the remote the moment my phone starts to buzz in my pocket. Pulling it back out, I fully expect to see Jensen calling, but it’s my dad with a FaceTime call.
My heart kicks up a bit on impulse, but I answer the call and prop my phone against this random decor thing on my coffee table.
I’m fully expecting Dad to speak first, but then my mom does. “Oh, Beck, honey, hi! I didn’t know what your dad meant by…oh, what did you call it?”
“FaceTime,” Dad answers, tears already quietly falling down his face. “It’s an interesting little trick, isn’t it?”
My mother’s face lights up. “It is, it’s like you’re here with us.”
I’ve never really thought about being thankful for furniture, but right now I’m so fucking glad I’m sitting for this. “Mom?” I croak.
Am I hearing things? Does she actually remember me right now?
I’m damn near holding my breath as Mom holds up a picture of me at one of my little league games. “Look at you. I remember this team, I did not like that coach of yours.”
It’s official, I’m dreaming. I have to be. But then Dottie turns on the couch nudging her head in my lap and I feel this jolt run through my body. “You did. Said he was too crass and didn’t know a thing about baseball.”
She keeps her eyes on the photo. “I tried to explain the rules, but he didn’t want to listen. More men really should listen to me.”
“Yes, they should,” I answer. I want to ask a question to keep the conversation going, but don’t know what to say. I just need her to keep talking. I need to talk to my mom again.
She flips through several more in her hands, not speaking for a minute, but then she sets them down. “I’m just so proud of you.”
I can’t stop the tears. I wanted to keep it together and not cause any worry or fear, but I can’t help it. Dammit, I need to pull it together.
