Letters from Becca: A Contemporary Romance Fiction Novel (17 page)

John narrowed his brow and waited.

Becca opened her eyes and faced him.  “The night before he...” she began, but quickly caught herself, as her smile faded.  “The night before he died was our anniversary.  So, of course, that night he was working out here all evening on this stupid car,” she stated flatly.  “Ignoring me.”  Becca’s eyes twinkled as she remembered.  “So, I decided I would see if I could distract him to give him his present.”  Her smile grew.  “I shouldn’t be telling you this,” she said, turning away.

“Oh, come on, you’ve already started.  Now you have me curious.”

Becca sighed, laid her head back and smiled as it unfolded again in her mind.  “Well, I came outside in my long overcoat, walked right past him, and then came over here and sat down.  I don’t know how long I sat here, maybe thirty minutes.  But I was determined to force my hand.  Either I could let his depression ruin us or I could help him snap out of it.”

“After a while David looked up and saw me just sitting here.  He was puzzled and wanted to know what I was doing.  I reminded him he had promised to take me out.  It was our anniversary, after all.” She sighed.  “He looked like a deer in the headlights.  He was so determined to get this stupid car running that night that he forgot.  Again.  So, I pouted and reminded him that he promised.”  She rolled her head toward John.  “I could tell he was really struggling with what to do.  But I was determined not to lose to this thing,” she patted the seats, “again.”

“I told him I’d forgive him not taking me out if we could just exchange gifts,” she grinned, as she stared out the windshield.  “I knew he hadn’t gotten me anything, because he always forgot.  Plus, he hadn’t left the house or garage for days.  But I didn’t care.  So I told him I wanted to go first.  I reached into my coat pocket and pulled out a small box and handed it to him.”

She turned back to John.

“So, what was it?” he asked, curiously.

“English Leather,” she replied as her smile continued to grow.  “He was shocked, to say the least.  So I took it out of the box and I took off the wooden lid and put a little on my hands and then patted his dirty cheeks.”

“What did he say?” John asked, brows narrowed.

“Wow.”

“Wow?”

“Yeah, that’s all he could muster.  Wow.”  Becca pursed her lips.  “Then I gave him the rest of his present.”

John looked at her questioningly, but suddenly he understood her smile.  “Oh, uh.  Overcoat.  Birthday present.  I get it,” he said uncomfortably.

“We made love right here that last night, that stupid bottle of English Leather sticking into my back the whole time.  It tipped over and some spilled into the seat, thus the smell.”  Becca laughed as she remembered.

“Yeah, maybe you shouldn’t have told me,” John forced a chuckle then swallowed hard.

“After, he said he felt bad because he didn’t give me anything.  If only he’d known he gave me the best present,” she added with a sad smile, looking down at her hands.  “It wasn’t until the day after the funeral that a neighbor who had a brother in England told me David had been inquiring about ordering soft English tanned calf leather to cover the seats.  English leather,” she said emphatically.  “All that time I had it wrong.”  She rubbed her hand again across the upholstery.  “I used to hate the smell of this stuff.  Now sometimes I come out here and just sit and take it all in.  Remembering.”

John reached over and took her hand, squeezing it.

“Now I don’t know what to do with the car.”

“Last time I talked to him he said he had her purring,” John revealed.

“Oh, he did.  Finally!” she exclaimed.  “God he’d had this stupid car ever since you gave it to him.  But when he got back from over there,” she said dryly, “he didn’t touch it for years.  But those last few months before,” she looked down sadly, “he spent night and day out here.  All those years, it just sat there, and all of a sudden he just started working on it again.  He was bound and determined to get this thing going.  He cussed it and kicked it.  He’d get one thing working and something else would quit.”  She shook her head.  “He’d get so mad,” she added with a crooked smile.

John lay back on the seat, staring out the window.  “He called me that night and told me had her running again.  Said that one day D.R. would be the talk of the school when he’d drive up in her.  Told me I should come down and we’d take her out for a run.”

D.R. rushed out the door with the keys and tossed them to John.  John looked at Becca and then back at D.R. “Your dad fixed her up for you.  You should be the first one to try her out.”

D.R. stood up straight.  “Can I really?” he turned to his mother.  “Can I, Mom?”

“As long as you never, ever try to drive this thing without an adult in the car with you.”

John slid over, and D.R. climbed in.

“I can’t reach the pedals.”

“Thank goodness,” she said with relief.  “You don’t need pedals today.  You’re just starting her up so that we can make sure she works.

Johnny walked around the car and climbed into his mother’s lap, William on his heels.  “Hey sweetie,” she said lifting him.  “You woke up!”  William rubbed his eyes and then lay on her chest.

D.R. beamed eagerly.

John moved his feet to the pedals.  “Okay.  You ready?  I’m going to put it in neutral.  Turn the key until you hear the engine turn over.”

D.R. looked at Becca, who nodded at her oldest son.  D.R. turned the key, and John gave it a little gas as the car growled to life.  D.R. and Johnny yelled with excitement.  William sat up and yelled as well; at what, he had no clue.

“How does it feel?” John asked him.

“Great,” D.R. beamed.

“One day, maybe I’ll show you how to drive her,” John said, winking at Becca.

“Really?  When?”

“Not so fast,” John smiled.  “You still have a few years until you’re ready.  And then there’s the whole have-to-reach-the-pedals thing.”

“Turn it off now, honey, and get ready for dinner.”

D.R. turned off the key and slid out of the coup.  Johnny crawled over John, followed by William.  John helped the boys carefully get down before turning to Becca.

“Are you sure you’re ready for eight days of this?” she asked.

“There’s no place I’d rather be,” he answered sincerely.

Becca stepped out of the passenger side of the car and closed the door.  As she arrived at the driver’s side door, she added, “We’ll see if you’re still singing the same tune after eight days with these little beasts.”

John stepped from the car and closed the door.  “Piece of cake,” he said, swinging the keys on the chain.  “Piece of cake.”

“Mmm-hmm…” she hummed, as they walked through the door together.

John spent the next three days tackling the honey-do list that Becca had prepared at his insistence.  He started with mowing the yard, since the kids unanimously requested that it be moved to the top of the list.  Mowing preceded setting up the Slip’N Slide under a sprinkler.  The boys took turns spraying water at John as he pushed the mower past them.  When he finished mowing, he startled them by chasing them around the house and playfully sliding across the Slip’N Slide in his jeans and T-shirt, getting grass and dirt all over it.  They proceeded to pout until he used the hose to clean it off.  He then chased them around the yard again, spraying them with water, until he ran too far and tore the hose.  So John scratched mowing off the list and added replacing a garden hose to the bottom of the list.

They all helped him work on the back porch.  It was in disrepair when David and Becca bought the house, but David insisted it would be easy enough to fix.  There were a few boards that needed replacing, and it badly needed a new paint job.  Otherwise, it was a sturdy porch.  The two older boys wanted to help John with the boards, so they took turns hammering in nails once John started them.  Johnny got frustrated when the nails would bend, so Becca moved him to the paint crew.  In the end there was more paint on them than on the porch, but when they were finished, Becca’s smile was reward enough for their day’s work.

There were a few minor home repairs: squeaky doors, cracks and holes that needed mudding, faucets that needed replacing.  Lastly, he tackled the kitchen sink.  They all stood around, holding towels, waiting for him to turn on the water.  He scolded them for not having confidence in his plumbing abilities.  When he finished, he had fixed a total of five leaks, some of which required new plumbing, but mostly just tightening and resealing.  They all held up their towels to cover their faces when Becca reached over to turn on the faucet one final time.  When the water ran and there were no visual leaks, they dropped their towels and gave him a round of applause.  He bowed, then turned and sprayed them all with the new sink sprayer he had installed.

In the evenings John and Becca took them roller skating, bowling, and to see Escape from Witch Mountain at the theater.  The fourth day was spent at the zoo and Brackenridge Park, riding the train, and at Kiddie Park enjoying the pint-sized rides.  Their favorite stop for the day was at the hippopotamus enclosure, where a zookeeper named Ervin was feeding Poncho, one of their two hippos.  Ervin would spray Poncho down and the hippo would open his mouth as if on cue to get a fresh drink of water.  After that, Ervin allowed the kids to help feed Poncho.  Ervin would spur him to open wide, and the three boys tossed heads of lettuce into his mouth, which he hungrily consumed.  They watched the monkeys ride bicycles and do other tricks in the trained monkey show across the path from the hippopotamus enclosure.  The boys walked and rode and rode and walked, and then slept all the way home from the park.

Every morning, the boys woke early, sneaking into John’s room and piling on him to wake him up.  After four days of this, he woke early, stuffed his bed with linens and pillows and then waited in the closet until they crept in.  Suddenly he jumped from the closet and scared them.  Everyone thought it was funny except William, who ran crying from the room to find his mother.  John tackled the other two onto the pillows on the bed and wrestled with them until they were all exhausted.  Becca walked in with William sobbing dramatically in her arms.

“Okay, guys,” she began, “we have a big day ahead of us.  Uncle John has a big surprise for us, but you all have to be packed and ready to go in thirty minutes.  That means beds made, clothes in the hamper, teeth brushed, and packed for three days.  Don’t forget your underwear, don’t forget your toothbrush or your swimsuit.”  William crawled from her arms and ran with Johnny to their room while D.R. dug through his drawers for his clothes.  “And help your little brother!” she called over her shoulder.

John put his hand on his head.  “Phew!  You really expect them to remember all that?  I feel like I need to write it down.”

“Trust me,” she assured him.  “Those little minds retain a lot more than you think, especially if there’s an incentive at the end.”

D.R. ran from his room to his brothers’ room to make his bed, which was temporarily a cot.

Becca walked to her room, talking as she went.  “I don’t know what you have planned, but is there anything else I need to pack?”

John followed her to her door and leaned on the door jamb.  “Not that I can think of,” he said.

Becca walked into her closet.  She tossed a few things out the door, and stepped out of the closet in just her bra and underwear.

John blushed and turned his back to her.

Becca laughed.  “You’ve seen more of me in a swimsuit,” she chastised him.  “Since when did you become so modest?”

John slowly turned back around.  It felt different seeing her in a bra and her thin underwear.  She bent over and took clothes from her drawer.  She was still as beautiful as he remembered.  She had a very small pudge around her belly, and a few visible stretch marks, but her slender, tan body was for lack of a better word, remarkable.  He watched her as she slid on her shorts and slipped on a T-shirt.

“Remember when we all went skinny-dipping at Canyon Lake?”

Yeah, he remembered all right.  It was the first time he’d seen a woman naked who wasn’t in a magazine.  He remembered Becca telling him not to look.  Of course, guys being guys, he looked anyway.  But somehow it was Marissa that came to mind now, as he reflected.  He remembered how stunning she looked in the light of the fire.  He remembered being very grateful for the freezing cold water.

Becca walked out of her closet with an armful of clothes.

“We’re only going to be there three days,” he said with a smirk.

“Yeah, but I don’t know what I may feel like wearing each day, so I need a little variety.”

John shook his head.

“What?”

The boys ran into her room, their backpacks stuffed full.  Clothes and toys hung from every zippered compartment.  Johnny was carrying his Playskool garage, William his stuffed bunny.  D.R. was holding the angler’s box that his father had given him the week before his truck accident.  It was complete with hooks, weights, lures and additional line.  They were supposed to go fishing alone; a father-son trip.  They had packed it together, David carefully explaining what each item was before setting it inside.  D.R. kept it in his room, next to the picture of his father and his dad’s fishing cap.  This would be the first time he would use it.

“Did you remember to make your beds?

Heads nodded.

“Toothbrushes?  Swimsuits?”

Heads nodded.

“Underwear?”

Johnny’s shoulders slumped and he dragged out of her room to his own.

Becca shrugged at John.  “He’s still in training.”

John smiled.

“Put your backpacks and your fishing poles into the back of the station wagon.  Then go to the kitchen and pull out your favorite two snacks or treats to take.  Leave them on the table and I’ll pack them with the rest of the food.”

They stood there as if waiting to be dismissed.

“Go,” she smiled, as she watched them turn and rush from the room.

John shook his head, his eyes wide.  “I don’t know how you do it.”

“This was easy.  You should see us on school days,” she grinned, as she finished packing her bag.  “That’s a nightmare.  It’s like pulling teeth to get them up, dressed, fed and out the door.”  She wrapped a bandana around her hair and put on a necklace that hung low on her chest.  She turned to model and held out her hands.  “What do you think?”

John slowly shook his head as he pursed his lips.  How could he tell her she was still the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen?  How could he tell her that he wanted to take her into his arms and kiss her?  That he’d never stopped loving her?  He drew in a deep breath and crossed his arms, still unable to find the words.

Becca smiled.  “Thank you,” she said, walking toward him, her bag over her shoulder.  She stopped by his side and leaned on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek.  She kept on walking, calling the boys, rallying the troops.

John closed his eyes and scratched his chin as he contemplated whether this was a good or a bad idea.