Catch up on the previous chapters here
Nell had work in the morning. Bentley Beckett was identified and in custody, and neither she nor Kent had gotten much sleep the night before, but her alarm still went off, and she dragged herself out of bed and into the shower, and dressed the same as she always had here, and got herself on the bus just in time. Thank God she could help herself to all the coffee she wanted. Today she’d probably need to augment it with some espresso, but she’d make it through.
Bentley Beckett was identified and in custody. Nell hadn’t checked the news since hearing from Owen, and she didn’t have time now, but she already felt so much lighter. Like all the muscles in her chest had been tense for years and now they finally relaxed and let her take a full breath.
It was easier to see in Kent, maybe, because she spent so much more time looking at him than she did looking at herself. She still basically felt like the same person inside, and the changes to the outside—haircut and dye job, quirky dresses instead of jeans—felt minor. She was still herself, and maybe that’s why she picked a name that could be shortened to Nell, because she still basically felt like Ellie. The person she’d been before hadn’t been a mask, or a cage, or an old skin that was too tight but she hadn’t been able to molt. Awful things had happened, but it hadn’t been the same for her.
She also knew that Kent felt a bit guilty about how her tragedy was his big chance. In case she needed the reminder, he wasn’t going to get out from under his family’s expectations without something like this: cutting them off completely and finally trying to decide for himself what was right and what was unacceptable. Maybe she’d been a little worried that all the big changes would end up being too much, but they’d had months in limbo, and he hadn’t actually started getting the tattoos until they were in Iowa and those tattoos were officially associated with Kent Harris. It wasn’t that Nell didn’t want him to get tattoos, but that she didn’t want him to regret them. Or regret anything he did in the name of changing his identity for her. Regret doing it at all.
Except she’d known that Kent struggled with it. The fact that she’d had to force it out of him over Christmas break—how no, teaching wasn’t going anything at all like he’d thought it would, it was worse than student teaching, and he didn’t think he wanted to do it anymore, which made him a quitter—at least meant he knew she’d seen it, but he’d still been hesitant. What if I do this? What if I do that? Always with the subtext: will you still love me?
Donna had him in khakis instead of jeans since he was in second grade. He hadn’t even owned a sweatshirt when he was in college. Kent fit himself to her expectations because he didn’t think he had a choice. He didn’t think she’d still love him if he tried something different.
Kent thought he was pushing the boundaries of Nell’s love when really she just wanted him to go ahead and push his own. She’d finally told him outright that she couldn’t see him making any sort of decision that would make her second-guess things, because he wasn’t going to get tattoos of hate symbols or start abusing her, so she wanted him to push things and see if it was a stretch or if it was actually just him relaxing into his true shape.
Okay and she still felt pretty proud of her wording, especially since it worked, and he had been able to relax. It probably helped, too, that his first instincts were indeed the things that actually fit him. By the time they’d moved down here, he was used to his new clothes and his new walk and his new reflection.
It was just Colton this morning, and they waved as usual before Nell got things ready to open. Art didn’t have to worry about someone bad from Nell’s past showing up because Owen had shown up, looking so much like Kent despite all those differences, and told them it was over. Now they just had the rest of their lives to figure out.
The door jingled shortly after she’d turned the sign to open, and Owen came in and immediately ducked his head and raised both hands. “Paying customer. We don’t have to talk. I just …” Sighing, he dropped his hands. “I don’t really believe it yet.”
“Are you going to go chill in the library once it opens?” she asked, not really sure if she was teasing. If Owen was the sort of person you could tease.
But he chuckled. “Guilty. It’s like when he was a baby and I’d just watch him sleep. Which … sounds kind of creepy, I guess, when I word it that way.”
She hesitated, but she saw more people on the sidewalk so Nell said it because he wouldn’t really have a chance to respond: “Sounds like love to me. Are you a drip coffee kind of guy or can I get you something started?”
Owen blinked and asked for a latte, then one of the breakfast sandwiches, and he took up a seat along one wall where he could look up from his laptop and … well, not quite stare at her, but they weren’t exactly glances, either.
And seriously, she didn’t know how dads worked. Or maybe she just didn’t really know how men worked. He’d look up and, if she caught his eye, he’d smile. A smile that, of course, looked a lot like Kent’s, and Kent also smiled a lot when she looked at him. It was … ugh, because this was her best comparison: it was like a cat who didn’t want to be too clingy but still wanted to be in the same room with you, because being able to look over and see you was enough.
The flow of customers was consistent and kept Nell distracted, at least until Mary came in, stopped dead, and faced Owen directly. “Are you really Kent’s dad?”
He looked up at her and nodded once in recognition. “I am.”
“Then why haven’t you been around before?” She cocked her head. “That’s what dads are supposed to do, right? Be around?”
To his credit, Owen didn’t look to Nell for help. “Sometimes it’s complicated and we can’t be there every way we want to.”
“So if it’s still complicated, then why are you here?”
“Because it’s a different kind of complicated now.”
Mary considered this before tossing her head at Nell. “We all think you didn’t want him marrying her.”
“People are allowed to be wrong.”
Nell had to hide a smirk because Owen meant Mary and the others, but Mary thought he meant himself.
“Uh-huh.” Mary turned to Nell. “You okay with him being here?”
She smiled before she could stop herself, which was enough of an answer for Mary, who nodded, turned her back on Owen, and went to select her plastic tags from the wall. She completed the rest of the transaction as usual, except for a raised eyebrow at Nell, who nodded to reassure her, and Mary went away satisfied.
There was a break in customers, so Nell came out to wipe down the other tables. “Need another one?” she asked Owen, nodding at his latte.
“It’s a want more than a need, but …” He finished the last little bit and moved his mug closer to her. “She’s protective of you.”
“I think …” Nell sighed and took a seat at the table next to his. “People who’ve been through hell keep an eye out for fellow travelers.”
Owen nodded slowly. “Your boss, too.”
“Yeah.”
“But not Kent’s.”
Nell tilted her head. “I think maybe you have to admit it was hell you were going through. Brandon hasn’t had a perfect life, but he pretends it doesn’t matter.” The honey badger thing meant he had to see himself a specific way, or else admit weakness.
“Fair.” Owen almost smiled. “Donna thinks he put her through hell. Choosing you. Which is how she sees it.” He closed his eyes. “That’s not coming out right.”
She shrugged. “I knew that part already.”
“Right. Yeah. So.” He looked out toward the street and then back at her. “I don’t expect the two of you to move back. She thinks Kent’s life has just been on hold for five years, and he’ll want to come back like nothing’s changed, except …” Owen gestured toward his face. “She can’t look at him and think nothing’s changed, so maybe he’s his own person who makes his own decisions and doesn’t need her, and that’s hard. The others have stayed close, and they aren’t her firstborn, anyway, so … I guess my point is, if you need me to step in there, I will.”
Nell was pretty sure he already had, but she nodded. “Thank you.”
He gestured to her hair. “Has it always been pink, or have you done other colors?”
“I started with blue, but that faded really quickly and just looked weird. For a while I had a stylist who’d do it for a discount if she could practice on me, so it was rainbow, and two tone, and just … probably the wildest. But it’s been pink for a while now.”
“It does make you look younger.”
Nell tried not to grin. “I’m not sure it makes me look younger as much as you expect only young people to have brightly-colored hair.”
Owen nodded a concession. “Touche. It is kind of jarring, though. I mean …” He looked back out at the street again to make sure no one would come in. “You two really do pull off that ten-year age gap, and it’s kind of creepy. So … good job, but yeah, I need to get used to it.”
If he needed to get used to it, then he didn’t expect their appearances to change.
“Oh, hey.” Owen nodded to where Kent was walking up from the bus stop.
Nell got up and took his empty mug, waiting for her husband to come in so she could give him a kiss. “Red eye?” she offered.
“Can’t you just fill up one of those giant mugs with straight espresso?”
She tilted her head. “I can. I’m not sure the health department would like it.”
He kissed her again. “Red eye. And two of the bacon things. And then maybe another red eye. Morning, Dad.”
“Morning, Kent.” Owen raised an eyebrow. “Sleep well?”
Kent grunted as he sat down, and Nell went back behind the counter to get her husband some caffeine and some breakfast, but not fast enough that he didn’t roll his eyes at her for laughing at him.
Chapter Thirty-Five – coming February 4
Rebecca Frost 