“How old do you think he is?” I ask Beckett softly.
“If I had to guess, I’d say, maybe, four months,” he says from his spot at the door. I nod slowly.
When Mocha is done eating, he comes over to me, and I scoop him up into my arms.
I give his head a little kiss and snuggle him to me. I feel like crying, but I shouldn’t be emotional over something like this. I close my eyes and just keep him close to me for a minute.
“I’m gonna go make some wraps, ok?” Beckett says, and I nod.
I hold Mocha close to my chest for a few minutes before getting up and taking him outside so that he can go to the bathroom.
I sit on one of the lawn chairs, watching Mocha do his thing and explore the backyard.
I hear the back door open and close. Beckett sets down a plate with a wrap on it, along with some veggie chips. Then he sets down a lemonade for me, kissing the top of my head before going back inside and returning with his food.
He sits in the chair next to me, and neither of us says anything as we eat. We just watch Mocha play.
“You did the right thing,” he says, lacing his fingers with mine as we watch Mocha chase around a butterfly.
“Thank you for letting him stay…I know that everything is all up in the air right now, but thank you,” I say, watching Mocha.
“Come here, baby,” he says, pulling on my hand. I look at him, and I let him pull me into his lap. My head rests against his shoulder, legs draped over his lap, his arms wrapped around my waist.
Mocha looks up at us and runs across the lawn. He tries to jump up into my lap, but his little legs don’t let him.
I reach down and pick him up, letting him snuggle into my chest. He lies down and lets out a sigh.
“Looks like he’s picked his person,” Beckett comments, kissing the side of my head.
“Don’t say that,” I whisper, pressure building behind my eyes.
“Don’t cry, baby, it’s ok. He’s safe.You’resafe,” he whispers, pulling me closer to him.
“I just don’t understand how someone could do this to such a poor little innocent baby,” I whimper, gently petting Mocha.
“He’s safe now, and he’s going to be ok. He’s going to have the best person in the world looking after him. I know just how special she is, and how much she’s going to spoil him. She has the biggest heart and the kindest soul of anyone I’ve ever met. It sucks what happened to him, but maybe it had to happen to bring him to you.”
I sniffle and wipe my eyes. “Maybe you’re right. He just needed to find his way tous. His path was a little hard, but he’s going to be in the safest house in the whole world. With the best parents ever,” I whisper, stroking Mocha’s soft fur.
“He’s gonna be ok,” he repeats. He wipes my tears away with his thumbs, cupping my cheeks.
“You really think so?” I whisper.
“I really do, baby,” he whispers, kissing my forehead.
“Ok, good, because I think that I’m already in love with him, and he’s going to sleep in the bed with us. I already have his Flykr username picked out, and all the brands I’m going to message on his behalf,” I whisper, and Beckett lets out a little laugh.
“There’s my brilliant little money-making, social media genius,” he jokes, making me smile too.
I don’t really know what our future looks like, and I know that it’ll probably be scary, but maybe it won’t be so bad.
I mean, how could it when I have the most supportive person ever at my side?
17
BECKETT
~JULY~
