same memories, sacrificed for their future together. So why didn’t I want what they had? I did. There was just no one I wanted to have it with.
“We’re all set then?” she asked. “We’ll probably spend a shopping day in Solvang and be up there by Wednesday.”
“You haven’t even made reservations yet. What if they’re booked?”
“We’ve never had any trouble booking the resort during the week, but if anything changes, I’ll let you know.”
“Fine.” I knew better than to argue. Mom was a force of nature. “Give me a call when you get in.”
“I will. Can you dine with us on Wednesday? As I recall, the resort restaurant is quite good.”
“We’ll need to play it by ear. If I get finished at the clinic on time, it should work.”
“Smashing. I can’t wait to see you, darling.”
“You too, Mom. Love to Dad.” He probably needed smelling salts as well.
“I’ll tell him. Bye.”
The call disconnected, and I was left holding my phone between sweaty palms.
My parents were coming.
On the one hand, I really did adore them. We’d always been a tight knit family, and I’d only grown more fond of them as they’d gotten older.
My father wasn’t around much when I was a kid, but now he made Mom and me feel like we were the most important part of his life. And I had learned to use humor to deal with frustration from my mom.
I knew they wouldn’t be around forever, and I wanted to enjoy their company—frustrating as it could be—while I could.
Obviously, I’d raised my mother’s suspicions that something unexpected was going on with me. Did I dare talk to her about Beck, even indirectly? About how my feelings for Beck were developing into something more than friendship and how confused I was by those feelings?
From the beginning, I’d made the same assumptions about relationships Mom did—that I should stick with men from the same walk of life, at the same stage in their evolution, with the same tastes, the same interests, the same likes and dislikes as mine.
My brain told me real romantic partnerships ought to be equal. That, as in my parents’ case, equality was the way to mutual admiration and affection and happiness.
But my heart…said something entirely different.
My heart wanted someone to nurture. To take care of. To bathe and even hand-feed. Because despite all my misgivings, taking care of Beck was the most natural expression of love I’d ever known.
My brain said it was wrong—maybe even a little weird—but my heart wanted Beck.
I no longer knew which I should listen to.
Chapter Twenty
Over the beach, the sky was full of kites—figural kites, fabric kites in rainbow colors, and elaborate dragon kites. The sight of them made me catch my breath in awe. Nacho’s Bar was packed and jumping. A live jazz band played Brubeck’s “Take Five,” the sound of exuberant horns spilling out along with the scent of delicious Mexican food.
A little farther along the boardwalk, a bunch of people surrounded a seated musician. I assumed that was Beck, playing his guitar. People clapped along, danced in time to the music. Someone drummed on an upturned Home Depot bucket.
I meant to get closer, discreetly, just to watch. He’d invited me, but as soon as I saw it was mostly people his age, I came to a standstill.
Jeff from Bistro had taken a seat on the ground next to him. Between them, there were pop bottles and bags of chips. They’d obviously struck up a friendship. It reminded me of the first time I saw Beck when Tug offered his ice cream and Beck leaned in and opened his mouth.
There was something kitten-like about Beck. Something that made you want to pick him up, cuddle him to you, and take care of his needs.
Maybe it was his innocence or the way his eyes lit up with happiness when he saw something he wanted. Maybe it was his quirky sense of humor or the way he laughed at people with kindness and not malice.
Anyone could see he was special. Everyone could.
Who was I to think he’d seen something in me he couldn’t find in someone his own age—in the same place on the journey, so much more in step, in sync, with him?
He glanced up, saw me, and gave a little wave. Callie barked hello, and I went over to greet her. Her ears were so soft, and she dug her snout into my chest to be sure she got all the scratches and rubs she needed.
A few