Deep (Luna's Story Book 3) Page 5

  Dan dragged his own chair around the table, closer, put his hand on Beckett shoulder, and bowed his head. “I’m not sure which part of your tragic life you’re questioning — the friends rallying around you, the aunts who adore you, Luna? The baby that is coming? Your baby, man. A baby. And I haven’t known you for long, but you seem to be the kind of guy who pulls your shit together when called on. You found Luna in the ocean. You lived on an Outpost. But look at you now.”

  Beckett clamped his eyes shut. “I screwed up royally. I wasn’t thinking . . . I was just so mad.” His head hung low between his shoulders.

  “Anger isn’t bringing out the best in you.” Their voices were quiet, ear to ear, voices filling the tight space between them.

  “I haven’t been the best me for a long, long time.” A tear rolled down Beckett’s nose, into his lap, between the two men's knees.

  Dan wrapped a hand around the back of Beckett's head. The side of his forehead pressed to Beckett's forehead. “It’s time to change that, you’ve got a baby on the way.”

  “How can I bring a baby into this hellhole of a world? We aren’t winning this war. The water is coming.”

  Dan nodded, warm stubble scratching against Beckett's cheek.

  “Did you hear the eastern ridges are burning?”

  Dan said, “No man, I didn’t.”

  “They are, they’re fucking burning, the whole forest. The roads are full of refugees, crawling in cars, hiking on foot, walking away from the fires, headed from the interior to one coast and then the other coast where guess what awaits them?”

  Dan said, “Water.”

  “Water, hot stagnant, the land over crowded, and people will get sick, and die, and I can't figure out how to keep on . . .”

  Dan said, “Me neither. I can’t imagine finding any hope in that scenario.”

  Beckett leaned back in his seat, Dan remained leaned forward, forearms on his knees. Beckett said, “I got on that bus. I met my regiment, and then we were deployed to protect the power plants. Six years without any combat and suddenly, I’m fighting. They dropped our asses in the zone and told us to defend it with our lives.”

  “That sucks.”

  “The only thing that saved my ass was that no one was dropping the big bombs, got to protect the resources. It was street by street, hand to hand sometimes. Trying to get to the top of buildings so I could shoot from above . . . God.”

  Dan stared down at his hands. “That sounds awful.”

  “It seemed like every day I had to do something worse than the day before.”

  “You never mentioned you were away fighting in the east, we didn’t know.”

  Beckett sighed. “I didn’t tell you, didn’t want to worry you.”

  “Same.”

  “I feel like it’s different though. That shit I was doing was better left unmentioned. Luna on the other hand, a baby, someone should have told me.”

  Dan nudged the water glass within Beckett's reach. “I screwed up. Luna screwed up. Your aunts. All I can say, in our defense, we were trying to help you.”

  Beckett balked, and Dan put up his hands. “I get it, it’s uncool to say it like that. We knew you were miserable, and we wanted to take some of the load off of you. Knowing Luna was pregnant, and you couldn’t be there, seemed like too big a load.”

  Beckett nodded. He gulped down the full glass of water, placed it on the table, and spun it a couple of times, thinking. “I see that. It was still wrong, but I have been in a load of trouble for months. And then getting home. Getting home was . . .” Beckett shook his head slowly, remembering it in vivid detail. “I got robbed, get this — while my pants were down around my ankles, taking a piss.”

  “Wow Army, I don’t even know where to begin with that. I imagine that’s got to be the bottom.”

  “Maybe. But maybe the depths will keep getting deeper. The water is coming. We’re all just scrambling for higher ground.” Beckett looked in Dan's face for the first time since he had arrived. “And that’s what I mean, what am I going to do? How am I going to scramble with a family?”

  “You’ve always had a family. It’s just getting bigger.”

  Beckett moaned.

  “You need to talk to Luna.”

  “God, Luna, how is she ever going to forgive me?”

  “Probably the way every man who deserves it gets forgiven, by begging for it.”

  “Imagine how she feels after what I just pulled.”

  Dan nodded. “I can imagine, but she loves you. And she needs you. I think you’ll be able to work it out.”

  “Phew.” Beckett shook his head slowly.

  “Yep. Phew is right.”

  “A baby?”

  “A baby. And if I haven’t made it clear, I’m really sorry I didn’t tell you. I didn’t think you could handle the news, but look at you, practically a professional.”

  A sad smile spread across Beckett's face. “I’ve proven I’m good at handling things?”

  Dan clapped his hand down on the table with a chuckle. “That was total sarcasm my friend, you apparently can’t handle much at all. You stink like garbage, you’re dirty, practically muddy — is that a flea on your head? How can you be at my table like this? Thankfully the girl carrying your baby can handle anything life throws at her.”

  “Yes I suppose that’s true.” Beckett’s smile faded. “So, can I have my keys now?”

  Dan said, “After you shower. With vigor.”

  Chapter 18

  After Beckett raced away on his motorcycle, Dan called Luna. “He’s on his way back to you, and I don’t want to say much. Don’t want him to think we’re in collusion again, but I believe you should give him a—”

  Luna said, “Yeah, I get it, I agree. I’m waiting for him on the porch. And yes, I agree. Thank you for calling.”

  “He’s showered too, you’re welcome.”

  Luna hung up and stared out over the driveway. She had made a promise to herself she wouldn’t look away.

  Chapter 19

  Beckett’s arms shook from the effort of the drive. He was exhausted. More than exhausted physically although the physical exhaustion had been enough. Traffic had been terrible, stop and go, and during the stops he had trouble keeping his head from lolling forward. How would that have been to fall asleep astride his motorcycle in the middle of the road? After that he had tried not to stop, to ride up the shoulder, and weave in and out of the parked cars.

  One hundred percent he should have spent the night at Dan’s. There was no reason at all for him to be on the road in his condition. But also every reason. He couldn’t sleep, not until he fixed this mess he had made. Unbreak all the hearts.

  But worse than physical, he was emotionally exhausted. He knew he needed to talk this out, explain himself, beg for forgiveness and make amends, but he couldn’t imagine having the strength for any of that. But he had to. Even though he wanted to curl up in a ball and do nothing but sleep for the next week. He had to make this all better.

  Leave it to someone in a big damn mess to make it twice as big. He was a dumbass. He had been trying not to be, but there was no denying it.

  About half way home the rain started. The road began to wind up the mountain. The visibility went to almost zero. His only good luck in days was that Dan had loaned him a raincoat. Unluckily, he couldn’t keep it over his knees. Sopping didn’t go far enough to describe how wet he was.

  Chapter 20

  Luna waited. The porch was wide and wonderful, her favorite place. Dark and cool on hot days, sheltering on rainy days. It had a couch covered with pillows for lounging. She had imagined many a day that she would lie there wrapped around Beckett. It was a goal. There was also two beautiful rocking chairs. Sitting in them reminded Luna of being on the water. She lolled on them. Like spinning in a current with twists, she rocked, eyes out on the horizon, over the valley toward the direction of the sea. She had to use her imagination to see it, but she could imagine it glinting. Waiting.

  Als
o coming closer. She could just wait here and the water would come. But she reminded herself not to say that to Beckett. Ever. And really, the side of this mountain, they were safe. If one wanted to be as far away from the water as one could be, this house was the place.

  Now she wasn’t lolling, she was actively waiting, with her whole body, stiff, alert, listening. She pet Shark while he slept, and when he started biting her hands, wrists, elbows, and feet, tossed him into his crate ‘to rest’ because sometimes, “Sharky needed a break,” as Dilly would say. Which meant they were all exhausted by the little puppy’s demanding personality. Luna did not want Beckett to be greeted by Shark this time. He would get to meet the puppy on his own terms.

  It began to rain. A warm downpour, drenching and loud. Beckett was on a motorcycle in this mess. So she added worrying to actively waiting.

  Chapter 21

  Beckett’s wheels churned up the driveway’s gravel. He pulled close to the porch, but could still barely see the house — except lights were on. That was good, they would be home. This time. He shook his head, helmet rocking on his shoulder, rain pouring down the visor. He swung his leg off the bike, pulled the helmet off, and turned to the porch — there — Luna.

  She stood at the top of the steps, under the roof, just outside of the rain, beautiful. He dropped to his knees. Right there in the mud. Rain rolling down his face in rivers, raincoat hem in the puddles, helmet falling to the ground with a splash. He was collapsed with the pain of his inside torture. “I’m so sorry.” He had to say it loud because the rain was deafening, all-surrounding, isolating.

  Luna stepped down to the bottom step and grabbed ahold of him, wrapping around his head, clutching him to her rounded stomach. Rivulets of warm water gushed down their bodies. She held him tight.

  He wrapped his arms around her back, holding, pulling her closer, crying into her stomach — he begged again, “I’m sorry, God, I’m so sorry.”

  His hold was intense, strong, pulling, holding her so close and tightly as if he wanted to pull inside her body or pull her inside his — “I didn’t mean it. I’m sorry.” Their separation had been too long. He felt foreign to her, rejected. He wanted, needed, to crawl inside her, make her his home.

  The strength of his need forced her back — she collapsed down to the bottom step with a splash. Leaned on his arms, she wrapped her legs around his waist, and clutched the back of his raincoat, pulling him even closer. His boots shoved into the mud, pushing him forward, climbing her body. The rain poured down, obscuring sound, sight, thought. There was only Luna under Beckett, the two wrapped tight around each other in the rain.

  “I didn’t mean it.” His words were drowned by the water. His boots shoved into the mud. Propelling him forward. Holding. Tightening. “I love you.” He nuzzled into her shirt, her chest. His face hidden from sight, his words spoken into her skin. “Please forgive me. I’m so sorry.”

  Then his shoulders shook with the pain and rage of the last days.

  She held on, within his arms, feeling the force of his quaking, cracking, heart, soul, body, and waited, for his terrible energy to dissipate.

  He stopped pulling and pushing, climbing and begging, and stilled, finally, sopping wet, drenched through, boots dug into the mud, but finally still.

  And then with deep low breaths they stayed there, Luna holding Beckett on the steps to his home, the never ending water pouring down.

  Luna’s hands rubbed down and around the rubberized raincoat on his back. She stroked the stubble on the back of his head and lifted her head to kiss the top of his.

  After a few more moments he said, “I’m sorry.”

  Luna stroked her fingertips down his jawline and pulled up his chin. There was pain and sadness and fear in his eyes, but in his cheek, under her fingertips, held the promise of his dimples. She could barely remember the last time those dimples had been aimed at her — but that was a lie. How could she forget their last morning together? He was looking down over the railing of the ship as she paddled. His eyes full of awe and love and a smile that said it all, full dimples shining — he was happiest with her. That much was true.

  In answer to his I’m sorry she said, “Welcome home.”

  He nestled into her chest again and his shoulders heaved again with tears, so she held him even longer.

  Until it was, as Chickadee later said when they were able to smile about it all, “Absolutely ridiculous how long you two spent out there in the rain.”

  Beckett was spent by the emotions, the ordeal, the mess, and the trauma. His body gave up in a way, and he went soft and heavy and almost fell asleep right there with Luna’s legs wrapped around him, his boots shoved into the mud, and rain pouring down his back. But just at that moment when he was perfectly halfway between wake and sleep, like that moment of sunset when the clarity of the green flash answers all the questions, wham — the baby, a new being that hadn’t even been addressed or barely noticed, kicked.

  Beckett jerked up, shocked and confused for a moment. “Whoa, Luna.” His hand reflexively went to her stomach, but hovered an inch above. He looked up at her face, his eyes wide.

  She nodded.

  He slowly placed his hand on her stomach.

  She said, “Wait there.”

  And after a moment the baby rolled from one side of her stomach, jutting, rolling back across to the other side, a lump jutted out, and then disappeared.

  “Does that always happen?”

  “Only when the baby is awake. It probably heard your voice.”

  Beckett looked down at her stomach, accepting that as true. “We need to get you out of the rain.”

  Chapter 22

  As soon as Beckett and Luna’s feet hit the top step of the porch, Dilly and Chickadee bustled out of the house and wordlessly wrapped Beckett and Luna up in towels. You could tell they were trying to be exuberant, yet cool and not talk too much. Beckett asked, “Forgive me, Chickadee? Dilly? I’m so sorry.”

  Chickadee said, “For what dear boy?” Then she chuckled. “Okay, fine, I can’t pretend that wasn’t an awful homecoming, you were a total ass, but of course, forgiven. What about you Dilly?”

  Dilly smiled. “For what dear boy?”

  Beckett swept them up in his arms and gave them a sopping wet hug. When Chickadee was released, she brusquely rubbed at his hair with another towel. “You are such a sight for sore eyes, look at you!” She threw her arms around him, and he buried his face in her shoulder. “I can’t believe you’re home.”

  Beckett was led into the laundry room off the kitchen to sponge and towel off and put on warm clean clothes. He emerged a while later in sweat pants and a t-shirt and bare feet. He had missed bare feet. He had begged off on a shower saying he had taken one at Dan’s and, “This is entirely too much wet. No more wet.”

  Luna did disappear to hop in a warm shower and change into dry clothes, so when she returned Beckett was at the kitchen table, leaned on an elbow tiredly chewing a cookie and alternately yawning while Chickadee beamed at him, holding one of his arms saying, “—a new tattoo?”

  Beckett looked down, yawned loudly. “I added a butterfly.”

  “It’s beautiful.”

  Luna stopped in the door, the scene was so warm and domestic and happy and perfect — except for Beckett’s yawns — she wanted to memorize it. Beckett was home.

  Dilly busied herself with a cup of tea. “Beckie, I’ve been collecting Thai recipes and have the whole week’s menus planned.”

  “Good, because I’m the kind of hungry that will take about twenty-one meals to fix.”

  Dilly appraised him. “You are very very thin, but we’ll fix you right up.”

  Luna pulled a chair up beside him and leaned back watching him. Beckett extended a hand, entwined his fingers through hers in her lap, and looked back at her with his dimpled smile. Her heart soared. Beckett was home and she was home.

  “Also, not too spicy, my mouth has sores inside.”

  Chickadee dropped her spoon.
“Are you okay? Do you need a doctor?”

  Dilly said, “He’s fine, right Beckett? A vitamin deficiency, we’ll get him fixed right up.”

  “Well, I’m calling my senator. He’s in worse shape then when he left. It’s unconscionable.”

  “Chickadee, you had any sinkings while I was gone?”

  “Just one.” Chickadee glanced at Dilly. “Okay two, but the second one was short, Luna helped me.”

  “That’s nice.” Beckett squeezed Luna’s hand and yawned.

  Dilly asked, “Do you need anything else Beckett? I made—”

  But Beckett, without taking his eyes from Luna said, “Nah, I’m good.” He pulled Luna’s arm up under his, and she entwined around his bicep leaning her head on his shoulder.

  Dilly busied herself putting away food, and Chickadee jumped up to make a pot of coffee, and Beckett whispered, his breath hot on Luna’s cheek, “I’m so tired, but I had a whole plan that included making love to you, and now you’re pregnant and—”

  She said, “We still can.”

  “We can? Even though?”

  Luna nodded.

  “Okay then.” Beckett pushed his chair back. “Dilly and Chickadee, thank you, I love you, good night.” He stood, groaned, and pretended to struggle to heave Luna up from her chair.

  Luna giggled. “You’re such a weakling.” She stood up on her chair and climbed on Beckett, wrapping her legs around his waist. He wrapped his hands around her thighs, buried his mouth in her neck, and carried her out of the kitchen.

  Luna looked out over his shoulder at Chickadee, laughing, while Dilly shook her head with a smile.

  Chapter 23

  Beckett carried Luna through the living room toward the door of his bedroom, but Luna flung out a hand, grabbed the door jamb, and pulled them to a stop. He asked, “What?”