18. Beck

“ K nock, knock. Special delivery.”

At the sound of Savannah’s voice, Beck hustled to her bedroom door still fastening the last button on her blouse.

“What are you doing here?” she asked, reaching for her daughter, who looked awfully bright-eyed and bushy-tailed for the early hour.

“I woke up craving scones, so I left Dylan sleeping with Nick and slipped over to the café. Jessie had me bring your delivery, which I put in the kitch— What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Beck said quickly.

Savannah’s look said she knew better. “Did the fake contractions stop or are they real? No, you’d be there if they were real.”

“They stopped and I slept in.” Beck slipped on her sandals and gestured Savannah toward the kitchen. “I was awake until three, so you’re a godsend with the breakfast.”

“Visions of a new granddaughter dancing in your head?”

She threw a look at her middle daughter, knowing she’d get humor and advice and plenty of support on the “Lovely Cannot Leave” train when—not if—she shared what Eddie had told her last night.

But shouldn’t she talk to Lovely first?

“I had a long convo, as Ava would say, with my, uh, father. At two in the morning.”

Savannah cocked a brow. “Do tell and don’t dream of leaving out a detail, because something has trouble in your eyes.” She glanced over her shoulder when they got to the kitchen. “I take it we’re alone?”

“Yes. Jazz and Mel like to sleep late, and I suspect so will Eddie. Oh! Bless you, sweet child!” Beck exclaimed when she saw the boxes and bags from the Coquina Café. “One of these days I’ll hire a cook and stop having Jessie handle the breakfast part of my bed-and-breakfast.” She lifted a box lid and inhaled the buttery smell of fresh pastries. “Or not.”

“Because who can bake like that?”

“Because…” She closed her eyes and battled the temptation to tell.

“Mom.”

“It’s nothing.”

“Mom.”

“Really, it’s?—”

“ Mom .”

Beck groaned. “It’s the third ‘Mom’ that always gets me.”

“Gimme a scone and tell me what’s going on.” Savannah breezed around the island to get her tea.

Beck took a deep breath and then spilled the awful truth as fast as she could. “They’re in love and he wants her to move to California.”

“What?” Savannah whipped around so hard, her long hair swung over her shoulders. “What did you say?”

“My reaction exactly.”

She gave a soft hoot. “Can you spell ‘preposterous’? Because I can. It’s N-O, two capitals, one giant exclamation point. Next problem?”

“Savannah, you have to understand something.”

She dipped her chin and gave a dubious look. “Please don’t tell me you agree with this insanity.”

“I love Lovely.”

“Who doesn’t? Everyone, it would seem. Mom, she can’t leave this place and go to California! For a man? What kind of nonsense is that? I won’t hear of it, end of story.”

Beck pulled a platter from the cabinet for the pastries. “It might not be the end of the story,” she said. “It might be…the beginning.” And that’s what kept her thrashing around in bed for the few hours she slept last night.

“ I can’t hear you …” Savannah sang, covering her ears, only half joking.

But she had to hear her. Beck needed Savannah and everyone else to understand what was at stake here.

“Just imagine, Sav,” she started. “You never met Nick. No, no. Scratch that. Imagine you met him exactly as you had and never saw him again after your…your…”

“Hookup,” she supplied. “It’s fine to say it out loud, we know what happened.”

“After that,” Beck continued. “But you had Dylan.”

“Different life, but?—”

“And you gave Dylan to Peyton to raise and agreed—no, you swore on your family name and the Bible in writing —to never tell Dylan or anyone else that you are his mother.”

Cup in hand, Savannah came a step closer, quiet for once in her life.

“And then, during the next fifty-five years, you never fell in love with anyone,” Beck said. “Not ever. No strong man at your side. No deep affection in your heart. No one to love and cherish or worry about or wake up with. Ever. But you wanted to. You longed for it.”

She swallowed. “Did she ever really try? I mean, Lovely’s beautiful and sweet. Surely there were men lined up to fall in love.”

“Lovely made a promise to her sister not to tell anyone the truth,” Beck said. “And if she did find that man, she knew she’d have to keep the truth from him. She’d never be able to be truly honest. So, no, she didn’t try.”

“Oh, Grandie. A control freak to the end, wasn’t she?”

Beck nodded, having nothing good to say about the woman who’d raised her, especially now that she knew what Olivia had put Lovely through.

“All her life,” Beck continued, “Lovely had a hole in her heart and a longing for something she knew she’d never, ever have. But now…the truth is out and…Eddie is here. And they are, whether we want to like it or believe it, falling hard for each other.”

“So, Lovely has a shot at finding The One,” Savannah said.

“Yes, she does.”

“I see where you’re going with this. Which is, sadly, to California.” She frowned and shook her head. “Which is untenable. Impossible. Unthinkable. No.”

“I agree with all that,” Beck said. “But I, for one, will not stand in the way of Lovely Ames finding her one true love and enjoying her last ten, fifteen, or twenty years on this Earth next to him. I won’t.”

Savannah turned when the kettle whistled, lifting it and bringing the room to a heavy silence.

“Permission to state the obvious?” she asked.

“Why doesn’t he come here?” Beck replied.

“Exactly.”

“Because his family ties and property connections and lifestyle are all just as strong.”

“What about this B&B?” She gestured around the sun-washed kitchen. “It’s not only the Ames family home, it’s a thriving business now, and Lovely is half-owner.”

“Well, maybe it’s time to…change the management structure.”

“What does that mean?” Savannah asked.

Beck felt the blood drain from her face, terrified to put into words the thoughts that had plagued her long after Eddie went to bed. “I could hire someone full-time or sell it?—”

“Mom!”

“And spend half the year in Australia the way Oliver wants me to.”

Savannah stared at her, blinked, and stared some more and, once again, the room was filled with a rare silence.

“I’m just considering all the possibilities,” Beck added. “Trying to make the people I love happy.”

“Oh, okay. Am I on that list? Is Peyton and Val and…and Baby McFatFace? Is Nick and Dylan and this fetus currently the size of that scone?”

“Savannah.” Her voice cracked and as it did, her daughter’s whole face collapsed.

“Oh, Momma! I’m so sorry!” She flew around the island, arms out. “That was so mean. I can see you’re struggling, and I just reacted so selfishly. I’m sorry. I’m sorry!”

Beck wrapped her arms around Savannah, squeezing her through the next sob.

“It’s okay, it’s okay.”

“No, it’s not okay. That was not fair.” She leaned back. “I’m such a brat!”

“You’re hormonal.”

“And of course you let me off the hook.” She squeezed Beck harder. “I’m awful and you’re so good and I’ll never be half the mother or daughter you are and that’s the truth.”

Beck laughed at the dramatics, brushing Savannah’s hair back and drying her tears.

“Do you think it will happen?” Savannah asked on a ragged whisper. “I mean, Eddie and Lovely? Is it real or are they just?—”

“It’s real.”

They spun around at the sound of Eddie’s voice to see him standing in the doorway.

“And I’m afraid I’ve crashed a mother-daughter moment.”

“No, no, it’s fine,” Beck said, easing away from Savannah. “I just share everything with my girls?—”

“As do I,” he said, smiling at Beck. “Maybe too much, eh?”

“Where’s your hair?” Savannah asked on a shocked laugh.

“Gone with the wind,” he said. “Winds of change.”

Beck rolled her eyes and he winked at her. But his expression grew serious as he stepped into the room.

“Listen,” he said. “And I’ll be straight, Beck, I promise. No lyrics.” He let out a sigh. “I did not come here to wreck anyone’s life. I don’t even know if I would have come if I’d known Lovely was alive. I would have worried about dredging up her past and throwing some massive monkey-wrench into her life. And that’s exactly what I’ve done. Forget the past, I’ve gone and ruined her present by asking for her future.” He cringed and looked at Beck. “Too lyric-y?”

“Very honest,” she replied.

Savannah crossed her arms and regarded him, her look unreadable, and Beck braced for whatever snarky joke might come out to slice him in half.

“Also awesome,” she said, surprising Beck completely.

And Eddie, judging by his response.

“A rare man who puts others first and has a good heart.”

His eyes flickered. “Thank you, Savannah.”

“That’s the kind of guy I married,” she said. “And he, as you know, left a thriving Hollywood career, a hit show on Netflix, and fame and fortune to move to Coconut Key and marry me.” She lifted her brows. “Just sayin’ .”

He chuckled. “I hear you.”

“Do you, though?”

Beck took a step back, instinctively knowing that the morning was slipping away fast. If she didn’t hurry down the beach, Lovely could walk in the door and she’d never get a chance to talk privately to her. She’d awakened this morning with that as her main goal.

Plus, this grandfather-granddaughter duo clearly needed some alone time.

“I’m going to be gone for a while,” she said, pointing toward the door. “Are you two okay together?”

“I don’t know,” Eddie said.

“Guess we’ll find out,” Savannah countered. “Scone?”

“Don’t mind if I do.”

Smiling, Beck walked out, certain they would find common ground and be just fine. For now, she had to talk to Lovely.

When she came up the back stairs, the first thing Beck heard was music and Lovely’s voice ringing out a little louder than Joni Mitchell’s, the sound bringing her to a complete standstill.

“‘ Help me! I think I’m fallin’ …’”

Beck closed her eyes and listened to her mother’s slightly off-key warble, belting out the song about falling in love too fast. Ava had once called the tune a whiny cry for help, and Lovely had chastised her great-granddaughter mightily.

Whiny or not, it was a cry for…something.

A cry for Beck to let her mother wallow in the beautiful glory of her first love? Or for Beck to take a stand, insisting that their love—the one between a mother and daughter who’d been unfairly separated for decades—took precedence over what could amount to a crush?

She just didn’t know, but had to find out.

Taking the last few steps, she listened to her mother—and Joni—sing about hoping for the future and worrying about the past. It sounded like echoes of Eddie’s perfectly-paced pronouncements that could be real…or could be song lyrics meant only to rhyme and sound good.

“Good morning, songbird!” she called out to her mother when she reached the top of the stairs, her voice instantly getting the dogs to bark.

“Oh, Beckie!” She heard footsteps, then the music stopped. “Come in, honey. Hush, puppies!”

She pulled the screen door open, not surprised to find the sliders thrown wide to let in the glorious January air and sunshine. Inside, Lovely, wearing one of her favorite flowered dresses?—

Beck gasped. “Lovely! Your hair ! Eddie told me, but…wow. That is so different. And bangs!”

She fluffed the just-past-shoulder-length locks. “I like it,” she said, a tad defensively. “Don’t you?”

“I love it,” Beck assured her, coming closer, staring. “You look…” She pressed her hands to her chest. “Aunt Lovey ! That’s how you looked when I was little. Before Olivia took me away.”

She smiled, her eyes misty. “Yes, that’s the last time I had bangs. But…here we are. Like…old Lovely.”

“You said you’d never cut it!” Beck exclaimed. “Not for…”

“Love or money,” Lovely finished, laughing at their inside joke. “Well, maybe for one of those things.”

For… love ? Was her mother really and truly in love?

She came closer, studying the actual cut. “It looks amazing,” she said. “He did a great job. So did you, since his looks so much better.”

“Doesn’t it? I kind of hated that ponytail, which he told me several people have now admitted.”

Several people…including Beck. But that conversation was in the middle of the night. “When did you talk to him?”

“He texted me good night when he went to bed sometime in the middle of the night.”

Middle of the night texts? Oh, boy. This was serious. Of course, she only had to see the gleam in her mother’s eyes to know that.

Could Beck demand that joy be wiped away? Hardly.

“Any news from Peyton?” Lovely asked.

“Nothing this morning.” Beck gave her a hug and added an extra-strong squeeze. “You look positively glowing, dear mother of mine.”

Lovely trilled her laugh. “Well, you know…”

“But I don’t know.” Beck lifted a brow. “As Savannah would say, spill some tea, please.”

“Actually, I just brewed a fresh pot of coffee. Can I get you a cup?”

“Absolutely. Let’s get comfy on the patio and talk.” Beck stepped back out to the screened-in area, only now noticing the easel and partial painting, and the guitar resting on the sofa, with an open notebook on the table.

“Some new additions to your décor, I see,” Beck called as she walked toward the easel and studied the particularly brilliant tones her mother had selected for this painting of the view. “This is great work, Lovely. You’re inspired.”

“I’m…worse than that,” Lovely said as she stepped out holding two mugs. “I’m…in…”

Beck bit her lip and took the cup, studying her mother’s face. “In what?” she finally asked.

“In something.” Lovely gestured toward the table where they’d shared so many teas and coffees and lemonades and mimosas. They’d sat here for hours and planned Coquina House’s remodeling, the room décor, the business strategy, and the joint venture they’d started together.

Beck’s heart dipped at the thought of it being over already.

“In…what?” Beck pressed again.

“Insane?” Lovely laughed. “In deep? In over my head? In…somniac? At least I was last night.”

“There’s an epidemic of that going around,” Beck said, still searching her mother’s newly framed face. “But all those ‘ins’ are bad. Are you in anything good that doesn’t have you feeling crazy, drowning, or sleepless?”

She smiled. “You want me to say it, don’t you?”

“I wouldn’t mind hearing it from your mouth,” she agreed. “It’s a big word and I have never heard you say it before.”

She put her cup down and sighed, her gaze moving to the guitar. “Okay, fine. I know it’s dumb and wrong and silly and?—”

Beck put her hand on her mother’s. “It’s none of those things, Lovely.”

She closed her eyes. “Beckie, darling, I think I’m in love.”

For a moment, neither of them said a word, letting the full weight and impact of the confession just press on both of them.

Then Lovely opened her eyes and looked right at Beck. “What do you think of that?”

“I think that no one on the face of this Earth is more worthy of love than you.”

She blinked and her eyes filled with tears. “Thank you. But what am I going to do?” she whispered the question, as if saying it out loud made the dilemma all too real.

“Well, first you’re going to enjoy the ride,” Beck said. “You’ve never been in love before.”

“Never. And I guess I can say I totally understand the hype.” She gave a soft giggle. “It’s like a glorious sunrise, sweet dark chocolate, the perfect melody, and a warm breeze all at the same time. Also like free-falling from a cliff and hoping there’s someone or something to catch you. And…” She made a face. “It makes me tingle all over.”

Beck cracked up, her heart rising with each word. “It’s all that and more,” she agreed. “You just described how I feel when I see Oliver’s name on my phone.”

Lovely dropped her head back and sighed. “Whatever am I to do, Beck? I mean, yes, I’m enjoying the ride. But like any good rollercoaster, we’re going to cruise to the end far too soon and then…”

Beck pressed her mother’s hand. “If you want there to be more than just a rollercoaster ride, all you have to do is say so.” The words hurt but they had to be said. “I will release you from any responsibility and…and…never, ever stand in your way of living your life how and where and with whom you want. You deserve every happiness, Lovely Ames.”

Lovely straightened her head and gazed at Beck. “Why, sweet Beck, can I not have it all? Why do I have to choose between one beloved and another? Between home and heart? Between love and loneliness?”

Beck smashed her lower lip between her teeth to keep from crying. “I don’t know why, Lovely, but are you sure you have to?”

“He’s not moving here.”

Beck stared at her, waiting for the rest. Waiting to hear, “And I’m not going there,” but her mother didn’t say another word.

After a few seconds that felt like an hour, Beck leaned closer. “We have options, you know. We could hire a manager to run the B&B.”

Lovely’s eyes flashed. “What would you do?”

“Oliver wants nothing more than for me to split my time between here and Australia. I’d live there with him, and come back to see my kids and grandchildren.”

Lovely gave a humorless smile. “Do be sure to fly through San Francisco so I can see you, too.”

Beck winced. “Yeah, I know how that sounds.”

“Other options?” Lovely asked.

“I’ve had an offer on Coquina House, which I rejected outright.”

Lovely stared at her, jaw loosened. “You…have?”

“If we sold, you and I would be set for life and…and…” Oh, the very thought was unspeakable.

“And our season would be over,” Lovely finished for her. “Our glorious season of mother-daughter bonding, of hospitality and happiness, of mimosas and memories and…” She blinked, a tear rolling down her cheek. “I sound like Eddie writing a song.”

“But we’d start a new season,” Beck said. “One of deep, lasting, song-inspiring love.”

Lovely considered that, holding Beck’s gaze. “Is that what you want, honey? Do you want to split your time and be with Oliver? Because I will not stop you, either.”

“I don’t know what I want except for you to be deliriously happy,” she countered, squeezing Lovely’s hand. “You have never had this kind of love before, and I want you to revel in it.”

“I’ve also never had this kind of love before, daughter of mine.” She lifted their joined hands. “And I want to revel in it some more.”

They stared into each other’s matching green eyes, both of them agonizing over the same question: why couldn’t they have both the things that they wanted? Why did it have to be an either-or situation?

“Hang on,” Beck said when she heard her phone vibrate from her bag, somewhat relieved to break the tension that stretched over the patio. “Could be Peyton.”

She stood and pulled out her phone, reading the text with a gasp.

“What is it? She’s in labor?” Lovely was up in an instant.

“It’s Marc,” Beck said, pressing her hand to her chest as she read Kenny’s text again and again. “He’s missing. They have no idea where he is.”

“Let’s go,” Lovely said, no other discussion necessary.

Wordlessly, they scrambled, gathering bags, locking doors, soothing barking dogs who somehow understood there was a crisis.

A crisis that demanded an entire family come together to support, pray, love, and search. An entire family that could be shattered by…love?

It didn’t make sense. But right then, to Beck, nothing made sense. Nothing at all.