She shakes her head, her gaze never wavering.
“Nope. Nothing.”
I lose myself in her soft smile and the happiness lighting up her eyes.
“Can I take you home yet?” I ask.
Bea’s lips part to respond, but before she gets a chance, someone gently slaps my shoulder. “Absolutely not,” a very familiar voice snaps, while a much deeper one chuckles.
“Mom, Dad,” I say a little too loudly, probably giving away every single nerve I’m feeling. “This is Bea. Meet Bea.”
Ignoring me and my rambling, Mom steps around me and immediately pulls my girl in for a hug.
“It’s so nice to meet you in person, sweetie. And I must say, you’re even prettier without a screen. I can see why my boy is so enthralled. And this bump. Oh my goodness, if this isn’t the most incredible thing I’ve ever seen.”
Tears fill Bea’s eyes as Mom treats her as if she’s already one of the most important members of the family.
Of course she’s told me about walking away from hers, but I don’t think it really hit me until seeing them together just how much she misses having that kind of connection.
“Hey, son. How’s it going?” Dad asks, pulling me in for a hug of my own.
“Yeah, good. You know.”
“Proud of you, my boy,” he says, sounding a little choked up. “Real fucking proud of you.”
63
BEATRICE
Isink into Alison’s arms, and the most contented sigh spills from my lips.
I’ve only ever met this woman online, but already, I feel a connection to her. One that’s been eluding me for years. Really, since the day Dad died. I’m not sure anyone’s embrace has felt like this since the last one he gave me. And the worst part of that is that I can’t even remember the last one. Just this weird ghost of a feeling of what it used to be like. I thought I’d made it up, built it up in my head to be something it wasn’t. But this right here proves to me that none of it was a fantasy. This really is how a hug from a loving parent feels.
“Oh, sweetie,” Alison breathes, clearly able to feel the way my body trembles against hers, hear my ragged breathing as I try my hardest to keep it together.
“I’m sorry,” I whimper, pulling back from her and trying to discreetly wipe my eyes.
The tears are flowing freely. I have no control over them.
“Bea,” Everett growls, concern thick in his voice.
“I’m okay. I’m just…” I wave my hand around as if that’ll help explain the sudden rush of emotions I’m failing to deal with, let alone name. “I’m going to the restroom,” I blurt before spinningon my heels and running from the room as fast as my legs will carry me.
I’m not aware that I’m being followed until someone catches the door behind me.
“I’m so sorry,” I repeat. “I didn’t mean to cry all over you.”
A soft, warm hand lands on my upper arm, kind, empathetic eyes gazing into mine.
“You have nothing to apologize for,” Alison says with a smile. “I remember what it was like. I was a mess throughout both of my pregnancies. The smallest thing would set me off. Clark had no idea how to deal with it,” she adds with a soft smile. “All he wanted to do was make it better; he couldn’t comprehend that really, there was nothing to fix. He just needed to be there and embrace the tears.”
I let out an emotional chuckle because I know exactly what she’s talking about.
“I haven’t had a hug from a parent in a very long time,” I blurt, needing her to understand. “It just…I got a little overwhelmed.”
“I’m sorry you’ve missed out on that, Bea. I can’t imagine not holding my babies every chance I get—even now that Rett is a giant,” she adds with a smirk.
My hand absently rubs over my bump, and my heart aches with the hope that I’ll be able to hold this one for many, many years to come, even when they’re all grown up and independent and think they don’t need their momma’s embrace.
