12
RILEY
Age 15
“Preston,” the housekeeper called from the other room.
I flinched at the sound of my new name, but I knew better than to speak up against it, especially with the dark tone in her voice.
I walked into the sitting room. “Yes?”
She held out her hand. “Another one.”
I felt my heart sink as I reached for the envelope, avoiding her eyes.
“You need to stop this nonsense. If your grandfather—"
“Yes, ma’am,” I said as I turned on my heel to leave. I wouldn’t listen to another second of her selfish, condescending bullshit. She didn’t understand. No one here understood.
I made my way up the stairs to my lavish bedroom. It was far too big for me and felt nowhere near as homely as the small room I’d once shared with Beckett. Maybe it would if Edward—oh, right,Grandpa—would let me fill it with art supplies instead of all these books. Maybe then it would feel a little more comfortable. The computer was okay, I guess, but I barely used it.
I sank down on my bed, staring at the envelope through tear stained eyes. The big, red RETURN TO SENDER felt like a slap to the face. I didn’t understand it. Why weren’t my letters getting through? I knew I had his address right, 817. It was the same three numbers of his birthday, which was only ten days before mine, so why were they coming back?
Drops of moisture fell on the paper and I quickly brushed them away before wiping my face. I felt like I was always crying these days, but only in here, behind closed doors. I wouldn’t dare let Edward see me like this.
I opened the drawer to my nightstand and placed the envelope on top of the two dozen or so other letters I’d tried to mail Beckett and the Henrys since arriving here a few months ago. Each time I saw the pile, my chest tightened unbearably, making it difficult to breathe. I knew the housekeeper was right. I needed to stop. I still believed we’d find a way to get in touch soon, but I couldn’t keep doing the same thing over and over. I needed to find another way.
“I won’t ever forget you, Beckett. Not ever.”
***
Sabrina was outside pulling weeds in her garden around the Bed and Breakfast when I arrived a few days after our bird watching adventure. She straightened when she saw me and waved.
“How are you, Preston?” she asked.
“I’m fine. Just stopped by to-”
“I know,” she said quickly. “He’s in the back.” Her sly smile and twinkling eyes gave me the impression she was on to me and it made me blush.
“Thanks.”
I went around to the back of the building, spying Beckett on a lounge chair under the trees, talking on the phone with a notebook in his lap. He hadn’t noticed me, so I slowed my pace, not wanting to disturb him in case the phone call was important. Beckett smiled to whoever was on the other end, causing a warmth to spread through me. I was quite fond of Beckett’s smile.
“Oh no!” he said, with humor in his voice. “What happened?” He became quiet while he listened, then tossed his head back as he laughed. “I’m sorry, I know it’s not funny, sweetie, but you’re giving me a very funny picture in my head right now. Yes, I know, but…”
Beckett finally glanced over, saw me and waved, then moved his legs to the side so I could sit with him on the lounge chair since there weren’t any other chairs available. My hip grazed his leg as I sat, yet neither of us moved away. He didn’t look at me or acknowledge the touch, but I felt it everywhere, like tiny sparks under my skin. It wasn’t the first time his touch had sparked something, but it was becoming impossibly more difficult to ignore. The more I was around Beckett, the more I felt that childhood crush starting to resurrect itself. Tiny butterflies danced in my stomach every time I was around him and I’d lost count how many times I wished I could reach out to take his hand in mine. I just wasn’t sure how he’d accept it.
I could hear a high-pitched excited voice from the other end when he pulled his phone away from his head to mouthHarper.I nodded.
“Well yes, I’m sure Tiger is pretty mad at you again so leave him alone for awhile, okay? Cats don’t like water, Rugrat. You know this.” Another high-pitched squeal. “I’m sorry you got in trouble, but you know the rules. No kitty baths. Tiger doesn’t like them. No, I’m not going to talk to your mom because your mom has these rules for a reason. Do you remember what happened last time? Yes, that’s right. The cat attacked your dad and he had to get stitches.”
I covered my mouth to hide my laugh. Beckett made a face and rolled his eyes, grinning even as he shook his head.
“Okay, good. So you’re not going to do that again, are you? No, I’m still not going to call your mom. You know you did something wrong this time. I know, but two weeks will be over before you know it. I love you too, Rugrat. Talk to you soon, okay? Bye.”
Beckett hung up and let out another round of laughs. “Good god, my niece is the perfect payback for all the crap my sister put us through as kids!”
“She gave the cat a bath?” I guessed.
