As Tears Go By
“What about all the things you deserve, Becca?”
“That’s… I’m okay with my simple life.”
“No, you’re not.”
Her lashes flickered as she blinked back tears. “I can handle the way things were. I don’t know if I can handle this.”
“What about us? Can we handle this?”
“What happens when we return to Pittsburgh? We’re moving so fast.”
“Why do we have to predict everything, Becca? Has assuming the future ever solved anything for you?”
Her lips tightened and she frowned. “No.”
“Then stop trying to guess what happens next. Let life take its course and, for once, enjoy the surprises it brings.” That was good advice for him as well.
“I’ve never been good at that,” she quietly admitted. “The last surprise I got was my husband screwing my neighbor. I didn’t take that too well.”
He pinched her chin and turned her face until her gaze met his. “You have to let go. We’re only human, we can’t control everything.”
“I never wanted control.”
“Then let others help you when they offer to take some of the weight off your shoulders. I don’t offer things unless I intend to follow through. When I said I’d be there, I meant it.”
She drew in a deep breath and, startlingly, he saw something shift in her entire disposition. Her face crumbled as she started to cry. “I’m so scared.”
“Hey, it’s okay.” He pulled her into his arms and held her tight. “Talk to me.”
Her head shook as she sniffled. “I don’t know how to trust people. It’s like I’ve lost all faith in mankind—including myself.”
He didn’t mean to chuckle, but she sounded so hopeless. “That’s not true.”
“Yes, it is. I’ve become so paranoid, I’m skeptical of everyone I meet. People can be so mean. I hate taking Hunter anywhere, because I can’t trust others to be decent. They stare and talk without thinking. It’s like they don’t think he can hear or process their nasty comments, but he can. Hunter’s more sensitive than half the people in this world put together. I just don’t want to see him hurt, but maybe I’m hurting him by sheltering him too much.”
“Mean people suck,” he said, holding her close. “But not everyone’s mean, Becca.”
“There’s a shortage of goodhearted people. That’s what life’s shown me. Then I come here and meet your family, and I have no point of comparison for such genuine acceptance. I’ve never seen anything like it and it terrifies me.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know. Your parents raised seven children. Their love is palpable, the way it’s supposed to be. Why couldn’t Kevin love us like that?”
Taking a slow breath, he drew back. He could talk about this. It was all part of Becca. But it was also a very difficult topic. “Becca, sometimes people grow apart. Don’t be one of those people that waste their lives chasing after someone that doesn’t appreciate them.”
She sniffled. “All I ever wanted was a marriage and family.”
“There’s still time for that.”
Her lashes lowered as her shoulders drooped. “I don’t know why I can’t let go. I’m aware my marriage is over, but something inside of me can’t accept that I failed.” Pressing her lips tight, she whispered, “I failed my son.”
He took her fingers in his hand and squeezed. “No, Becca. Kevin failed.”
“But Hunter paid the price. We decided to have a child and to me that decision came without conditions. Hunter deserves the family he was meant to have, but I can’t give that to him. No matter who did what, somehow we both failed.”
Unfortunately, he had no words to ease her pain. In time, she’d hopefully see she hadn’t failed. She was an incredible mother and her ex’s faults were not a reflection of her own. “There are a lot of assholes out there, Becca, but I swear I’m not one of them.”
“I know you’re not. You’re probably one of the nicest guys I’ve ever met. Your family’s incredible and has been nothing but kind to us since we arrived. I don’t know where you people come from, but you’re not normal.”
At that, he did laugh. “No, we’re certainly not. We’ve got more heart than common sense, but that’s what makes us McCulloughs.”
“It must have been nice growing up in such a small town with such a close knit family.”
“Yes and no. Everything has a cost. Look at Luke. He spent years pretending to be someone he wasn’t because he was afraid people wouldn’t accept who he really was. And Sheilagh’s the best actor of all of us. Only in the past two years did she actually find the courage to share her real feelings about things. And Mallory, my God that girl has put herself through hell and back.”
She frowned. “Finn’s wife?”
“Yeah.”
“Why? She’s seems so confident and funny.”
“When she moved here she was about a hundred pounds heavier than she is now. She had zero confidence and was bullied about her appearance all of her life. The girl’s her own worst critic.”
“Mallory was fat?”
He grinned. “Some would say she still is. We don’t, because we see her for the beauty she is. It doesn’t matter what size she is. She’s our sister and we adore her—all of her.”
“You’re really lucky, Braydon. Most people don’t grow up with such an accepting family.”
“Every single one of them would accept Hunter too. You saw Finn and Luke with him. We aren’t judgmental when someone’s different. The outside world probably looks at us like we’re crazy, but anyone who knows us knows it’s the best kind of crazy.”
She laughed. “Yeah.”
“Tell me you’ll stay.”
She sniffled and nodded. “I’ll stay.”
“And tell me you won’t end our relationship because the future scares you.”
She pursed her lips and looked away. “Sometimes I get freaked out.”
“And when that happens we’ll talk it out and find steady ground again. Together.”
“Okay. Just be patient with me. I’m not used to nice people.”
“Carla and Nikki might resent that.”
“Oh, well, Nikki might, but Carla wouldn’t. There’s no sugar, spice, or anything nice about her. And she knows it. She’s her own unique blend of stubbornness, sarcasm, and caffeine, but I adore her—thorns and all.”
“Then we should probably go check on her. Colin said something about her growling at him over a mug of coffee.”
“Ohhhh…it isn’t safe to communicate with her until she’s had at least one cup of coffee and decided whether to use the powers of caffeine for good or evil. We better make sure she didn’t harm anyone.”
She stood and he grabbed her hand. “Becca. Are we okay?”
A slow smile twisted her lips. “Yeah, I think we are.” She opened the door and laughed. “Just don’t go proposing again. I’m not even addressing that outburst.”
When she disappeared down the hall, he grinned. “We’ll see.”
Chapter Eleven
Thanksgiving was the typical madhouse McCullough affair. All the aunts and cousins came to the big house, children were stampeding all over the lawn, and Italian Mary criticized the cooking. After dinner the men piled into the den to watch the game and the women clucked about everything under the sun in the kitchen. It was loud. It was obnoxious. It was home.
Braydon was beyond relieved Becca and her friends stayed for the duration of the weekend, but as the day progressed he found himself studying her in a different light. The haze of alcohol and sex had worn off, yet his query remained.
When she asked him to pass the green beans, he wanted to ask her to be his wife again, but he held back. Same when she asked if he’d like a cup of coffee after dinner. Sure. Would you like to marry me after winter? But he kept his mouth shut.
All of his life his family teased him about chasing perfection. Becca’s life was far from perfect, yet he never wanted to run toward some
thing as hard and fast as he wanted her. All of her. This was very different from everything else he’d known. This was deep and permanent. He just had to convince her his feelings were real and pray hers were the same.
Friday morning he took a ride with Kelly to pick up a shipment for the bar and get some perspective. It was nice to get out of the house for a while and spend some quality time with his brother. Especially since the longer Braydon was around Becca the more difficult it became to hold those inappropriate questions inside.
“Your lassie’s cute,” Kelly said as they headed back toward Center County.
“I know. And stop checking her out.”
The corner of Kelly’s mouth hitched up as he sent Braydon a sidelong glance. “You got it pretty bad for this one, huh?”
“I’ve never had it worse. I don’t know how she does it, but I wanna be around her all the time, and I can’t get her out of my head.”
Kelly laughed. “Yup. Been there—am there.”
Ashlynn was a remarkable woman and so good for Kelly. She had to be incredible to get his uninhibited brother to settle down.
“I can’t handle it,” Braydon confessed. “They all get away and I let them go. This one, I can’t let go of. No one’s ever felt this right or made me want things to this degree. I just want…her.”
“For me,” Kelly said, “a big part was imagining her with someone else. Couldn’t do it. Every time I thought about her smiling at some douchebag the way she smiled at me I saw red. Those were my smiles. I wasn’t sharin’.”
Braydon hadn’t thought about Becca being with someone else. Most of the time her life was so busy with Hunter and work, dating—period—was the issue. But when he tried to imagine her seeing other people—yeah, he threw that thought right out the window, because it was extremely unpleasant.
Without considering his words, he announced, “I wanna move home.”
Kelly’s brows darted up as he shot Bray a quick glance, then quickly returned his focus to the road. “Yeah? Mum would love that. Get Sheilagh to come back and she might have a conniption she’d be so happy. All her little chicks back in the nest.”
“It probably won’t happen.”
“Why? You travel for work. How many of the buildings you design are actually in the city?”
“Maybe thirty percent. I’m on the road once a week.”
“So get on the road from here.”
“I can’t do anything until I finish this deal I’m working on with Becca’s company.”
He chuckled. “Last time it was the boss, now the colleague. You really love dipping your pen in the company ink.”
Then there was the greatest dilemma. “Becca would never move here.”
Kelly turned again. “Wow, you really are serious about her. Why not?”
“Her home’s in Pittsburgh. Her ex is there and they share joint custody.”
“What’s he like?”
“The ex? He’s a dick.”
“No, the kid. Sammy said he has some special needs.”
“He’s labeled autistic, but Hunter’s a really sensitive subject with Becca.”
“Well, yeah, just like Nate’s a sensitive subject to me. He’s her son.”
“It’s so different, observing her way of parenting compared to watching the rest of you.”
“I bet.”
“He looks just like every other kid I’ve met, except when he gets overwhelmed. When there’s a lot going on he sort of drifts into his own world and self-stimulates. It’s like you can see his curiosity, but our brains are too one dimensional to see what has him so intrigued. He’s incredibly talented.”
“So how’s he special?” Kelly asked.
Braydon struggled to explain. Becca knew all the right words and proper, politically correct terms. “It’s like he doesn’t need socialization the way we do. People see that as a problem and want to teach him ways to socially interact, but I don’t think he cares or wants to. There’s this assumption that if a kid can’t blend well with others and do the same thing every other kid that age is doing, he’s wrong. But what if the world’s wrong?
“Hunter’s always thinking. It’s in his eyes, the way he focuses so completely on some minuscule detail, something we’ve completely overlooked. Becca thinks it’s best to nurture his personal interest. I mean, she wants him to have manners, but she isn’t concerned that he doesn’t want to play on sports teams or mimic what his peers are doing. He’d rather think independently,” Braydon explained.
“You’re pretty informed on this. Why should he have to do what everyone else is doing? Kids today are frightening. Look at the crap reality shows Kate’s kids are obsessed with. If they’re the trends being set, I’d say breaking away from the masses and doing your own thing’s the safest bet.”
“It’s not that simple,” Braydon explained. “He doesn’t understand consequences. Sometimes he hits because he’s frustrated. He mostly inflicts it on himself, but we can’t allow that. Plus, when he has a meltdown, Becca usually walks away bruised. He’s strong. Her house is like Fort Knox, because he runs and doesn’t understand running into traffic could kill him.”
“That’s scary. I still remember freaking out when Nate learned to climb over the baby gate, and he never got farther than the kitchen.”
“Yeah. And Hunter’s fast.”
“She does it on her own?”
“Mostly. The ex never showed much interest in “being a family” so she has no choice. It’s her son. Would you draw a line with Nate? Bump him down in your priority list because you were exhausted or because you’d rather be doing something other than parenting?”
“No. My son and my wife are always first. No matter what.”
They rode in silence for a while, but Braydon was enjoying their heart to heart. There was a lot on his mind. “You know what she told me one time?”
“What?”
“That she can never die, because no one will ever love her son or care for him the way she does and he’ll likely need that kind of care his entire life.”
Kelly let out a low whistle. “That’s heartbreaking.”
“Yeah.”
Kelly cleared his throat. “Finn said he had an episode when they were there.”
“Yeah, it was the first time I actually saw what she really went through. It was intense. The house could’ve caught fire and she wouldn’t have stopped to put it out until she was sure Hunter was safe, and not going to hurt himself. It was devastating, because I had no idea how to help and I sort of just stood there. I’ve never felt so useless, and I don’t ever want to feel like that again. I’ve really been researching, because I’m positive that won’t be the last time. I can’t imagine how many times she’s been in situations like that or worse and handled them on her own.”
“And you’re up for this? Sounds like a big job for a guy that’s not his father.”
“His father never helped her. I see her and…she takes my breath away, Kel. I can’t explain it. I want all of her and he’s a part of her. He’s a cool kid.”
“Amen, brother. You got this. There isn’t much I’ve seen you fail at.”
“Lost Sammy.”
Kelly snorted. “That’s because we all look like shit when compared with Colin. He’s a freaking saint. Only compete with yourself in life and you’ll end up better than the man you were yesterday.”
“Thanks.”
“I speak the truth, Bray. You’re a great guy.”
His brother’s words were comforting, but there were still concerns he needed to voice, even if there wasn’t a ready solution. “Sometimes Hunter doesn’t sleep for days.”
“Why?”
“I think because his brain’s always working, like he’s always solving some theory in his head. He gets insomnia.”
“What does Becca do when he doesn’t sleep?”
“She stays up with him.”
“Does he talk?”
“Yeah, but mostly when prompted or if he absolutely wants to c
ommunicate something. He doesn’t seem bothered by silence like most people. He didn’t talk until he was around five or six. And he can’t be touched.”
“Ever?”
“No, Becca does this thing with his shoulder and sometimes she holds his arm to keep him safe. But he doesn’t hug or cuddle.”
“That’s gotta be difficult for her.”
“Very.” He sighed, thinking about how much she liked being held close. “I just wish I could somehow make life a little easier for her.”
They pulled up to the pub and Braydon helped Kelly unload the truck. When they were finished stocking the supplies, they each had a beer. Kelly was eyeing him carefully.
“What?” Braydon asked.
Kelly leaned back and grinned. “Build her a house.”
“What?”
“Build her a house, Bray. You have the land. You save every dime you make. You don’t have to live in the city. She has no one there to help her. Our family’s crawling with helpful, good-hearted maniacs. I know you always imagined building the perfect, architect’s wet dream of a house, but maybe that’s not what you’re supposed to have. You could build the perfect house for her and Hunter.”
“And would I be in that house?”
Kelly laughed. “That depends on how you play your cards. Whip out your hammer and nail her to the wall with some good ol’ McCullough charm. It’s what we do.”
From the moment Kelly put the idea in his head, his brain went into overdrive. Visions of Becca’s brightly colored house and all the functional rationale behind every touch flooded his mind, only his brain improved each design.
He’d create a multisensory room with balls, mats, and baluster swings. There would be a music room, not one with a hand me down upright from the church, but a great big grand piano and cathedral ceilings for the perfect acoustics. He’d design Hunter’s bedroom with a bed that didn’t have hard edges or sharp angles.
For Becca he’d create the perfect monochromatic space, a sanctuary for her to escape and find peace when she needed it. Every window would be custom fit with unbreakable security screens. There were some so strong even a blade, crowbar, or sledgehammer couldn’t puncture them. That way she’d be able to let the fresh air in and watch her café curtains wave in the breeze without having to worry.