Authors: Kate Stayman-London
“I think I need to—excuse me.” She backed away from Julia. “I’m sorry, I have to go.”
She told a producer she needed to use the bathroom, then took off toward the home she’d loved since childhood. After Bob and Sue got married, they’d taken on a new project every year, fixing up the shabby original house and eventually putting on multiple additions. Now, decades later, the place had a hodgepodge feel to it—a strange, cozy, mismatched maze that was always filled with family.
Bea ducked through the kitchen, warm and woodsy and packed with production staff and caterers, then slipped past the powder room and down one of the house’s crooked hallways. Two turns later, she opened a door still hung with a simple wooden sign that read
Bea
.
Bea’s room had been the same since childhood, lavender walls and a soft white carpet, a little twin bed and a whole wall covered in books.
Bea sat on the floor and drew her knees to her chest, breathing in the smell of the place. She closed her eyes, and she was crawling into bed at four o’clock in the morning after James kissed her, shoving her torn sundress in the wastepaper basket under her small white desk. She was here on senior prom night, reading another romance and dreaming of something more. Here again last Christmas, silently crying and missing Ray so much she thought it might kill her, wondering if there’d ever be a time in her life when she would visit her parents and need more than this one twin bed.
What would seventeen-year-old Bea think if she could see her future as a TV star with dozens of handsome suitors? And would her awestruck opinion shatter if she knew it was all a sham?
Bea buried her face in her knees and tried to breathe—just slowly, just anything—until she heard a soft knock on the door.
“Beatrice? Are you in there?”
She thought about keeping silent, but she figured the longer she stayed hidden, the more it would throw production into a tizzy, and the worse it would be when she eventually emerged.
“Yeah, Mom. I’m here.”
The door cracked open, and Bea saw Bob and Sue, their faces full of worry.
“Oh,
Beatrice
.” Sue flew into the room and knelt on the floor beside Bea, wrapping her arms around her daughter. “It’s been a terribly long day.”
Bea smiled through the tears she hadn’t even noticed were running down her face. “Yeah, Mom. A really long day.”
Bob stepped in quickly after Sue and shut the door behind him.
“No cameras?” Bea asked hopefully. Bob grinned.
“Nah, kiddo. We gave them the slip.”
“Darling,” Sue said delicately, “how are you feeling?”
“I’m …” Bea wanted to crack a joke to defuse the tension, to reassure her parents that she was really fine. But she couldn’t. Because she wasn’t.
“It’s a lot on your shoulders, this whole endeavor,” Bob said. “Must be a lot of pressure.”
Bea nodded—it was.
“We met a lot of nice young men today,” Sue offered.
“Yeah?” Bea tried to smile. “Who did you like, Mom?”
“I liked that Sam very much. Didn’t we like him, Bob?”
Bob nodded; they did.
“He’s so young,” Sue went on, “but then, that’ll be why he’s so optimistic, isn’t it? It was nice, talking with someone so hopeful. And that Wyatt was sweet. And so handsome! Of course, we heard from your brothers all about that Frenchman of yours. Is he the one you think you’ll marry?”
“Sue.” Bob’s voice had a warning note.
“Bob, she’s supposed to get engaged, that’s the point, it’s why she’s doing this! If I’m not allowed to ask about this now, when am I?”
“It’s okay, Mom. I know this is something you want, and I want it too. I hate that I keep letting you down.”
Sue opened her mouth to speak, but Bob jumped in first. “Now wait, wait a minute, Bea. Do you think your mother and I are upset with you for being single?”
“Not upset.” Bea’s voice cracked on the second syllable. “Just, disappointed, obviously. The guys all have their wives, and kids, and I’ve just never been able to … I don’t know. It hasn’t been in the cards for me. And I’m so proud of my career, of everything I’ve accomplished.”
“So are we!” Sue protested.
“I know, Mom. I know you are. But when I come here, and I see all of you together—I want this so much. And it just feels impossible. Like you’re all living on this island, this place where people know how to love each other, and no matter what I do, I can’t figure out how to get there.”
“What happens when you try?” Bob asked gently.
Bea shook her head, crying in earnest now. “I drown, Bop. Every single time. I drown.”
Bob nodded tightly, tears in his eyes too. Sue smoothed back Bea’s hair.
“Safer to stay where you are then, isn’t it?” she coaxed. “Even if where you are makes you miserable.”
“What do I do, Mom?” Bea pleaded, feeling incredibly young. “I don’t know what to do.”
“You know,” Sue’s voice was raspy, absent her usual affected cheer, “when your father left—not Bob, your biological father—I thought I was done. A woman alone with four kids, no savings, this run-down house. I thought,
Who could possibly want me?
”
“
Mom
.” Bea exhaled. In her entire life, Bea could count the number of times she’d heard her mother talk about her biological father on one hand.
“The night he called to say he wasn’t coming home was the worst of my life,” Sue went on. “All you kids were asleep, or I thought you were, but then I heard you crying. So I went into your room, and you were standing in your crib, and you said, ‘Up me, Mama.’ That’s what you used to say, ‘Up me.’ So I picked you up, my sweet girl, and you were crying, and so was I. And I was so afraid, Bea. I didn’t know what I was going to do. If you think you’re hopeless, well, I was so far past that point, I was completely shut down. Until I met Bob.”
“And he made you believe again?”
Bob laughed. “Hell, no. Your mother didn’t want a damn thing to do with me.”
“Wait, really?”
Sue shook her head. “Between working and raising all you kids, I was completely in survival mode, focused on whatever was in front of me—I couldn’t possibly consider adding another person into the mix! Bob saw I was running myself ragged, and he offered to help. That first time he came to the house, that was when things started to change.”
“Because of you, Bean.” Bob rubbed Bea’s knee affectionately.
“Me?” Bea was bewildered. “How? Wasn’t I only five?”
“Four,” Bob corrected. “When I came over here, the whole place was chaos. Your brothers were running around the yard, your mother was trying to get dinner on the table, and I didn’t know how to help with any of it. Then you came running over to me, and you were about the cutest thing I’d ever seen. You had this big book of fairy tales, you remember? You never went anywhere without it.”
Bea pointed to the bottom shelf, where the tattered book in question still rested.
“That one there?”
Bob smiled. “The very one. You held it out to me, and you said, ‘Story?’ Bean, I don’t know how any man could say no to you, but I sure as hell never could. You were so trusting, you plopped right in my lap and we sat there and read for hours.”
“That was it.” Sue was choked up. “I saw you two together, and I thought,
Oh. She’s going to have a father
.”
“You make it sound so easy,” Bea whispered.
“No”—Sue grabbed Bea’s hand—“no, Beatrice, it’s the hardest thing in the world. To have been that hurt, to feel that afraid, and to know that the only way you can be really, fully happy is to risk going through it all again? It’s a terrifying choice to make. But if you want to let someone be that close to you, it’s the only way.”
“That’s it!” Bob lit up like he always did when someone hit on a new insight. “It’s about choice. A lot of people live their lives by default, walking through the doors in front of them because it seems expedient. That’s one way to have a family. But us? We chose each other. And that’s what you’re doing here, Bean—that’s why it feels so scary. Because it is. You’re choosing your family.”
“And what if I can’t?” Bea wiped the tears out of her eyes. “What if there’s something inside me that’s just—I don’t know, incapable?”
“Not possible.” Bob smiled, his whole face warm and crinkled. “Bean, everyone in this family knows how much love you have inside you. We’re together because of you. Your good heart was the key that unlocked our whole lives.”
“I don’t know what to do, Bop. I want to be brave, like you two, but I just—I don’t know what to do.”
“It starts with the choice, just like your mom said. Here in this room, it seems to me you have a sense that you might want one of these fellas to be your family. If you want that, you can have it. But first, you have to tell them that’s what you want. Bean, you have to choose.”
Bea was worried Lauren would be furious when she came back outside, but there was so much going on that her twenty-minute absence appeared to have escaped unnoticed.
Bea scanned the busy yard looking for Asher—he was chatting with Duncan and Julia, all three of them laughing. Asher was holding baby Alice, booping her nose and puffing out his cheeks to make her smile. It was obvious that he was wonderful with children, and Bea wondered how he could be so natural with this little baby and yet so stilted with her. Duncan had an arm around Julia’s waist, and she leaned comfortably into her husband, the two of them easy in a way that sent a twist of pain through Bea’s chest. She wanted this. And if she kept on like she was, she would never, ever have it.
Bea didn’t know if it was possible that she could fall in love on this show, but if she was going to try—really try—she knew this step had to come first, even if she was about to plunge headlong into utter humiliation.
“Hey,” she said to Asher as she approached their group. “Can we talk for a second?”
“Oh.” He looked apprehensive. “Sure. Of course.”
He handed baby Alice back to Julia, and together they walked over to a quartet of Japanese maples Bob had planted when Bea was little—one for each of the four kids. The trees had been saplings then, but they were nearly twenty feet tall now, their branches long and twisted, leaves flashing crimson in the orange light before sunset.
“Are you all right?” Asher looked concerned. “I didn’t think—I mean, I’m surprised you want to talk to me.”
“Me too.” Bea laughed a little, mostly from nerves—but, she was amazed to discover, a little bit from joy. “I wanted to apologize, actually.”
Now Asher looked downright wary. “What for?”
“What you said on the boat,” Bea fumbled the words, “that you didn’t think I was here to fall in love. I was angry at you for saying it on camera, and for saying it at the end of such an awful day. But mostly, I was angry because you were right.”
Understanding dawned on Asher’s face, and his expression softened.
“When I came here, I was still, um, getting over someone. Who really hurt me, and—and I didn’t know if I was ready to meet someone new. Then on the first night, seeing all of you for the first time, that sealed it. I thought there was no way any of you could possibly have feelings for me, so why would I risk my heart for you? It didn’t seem worth it. Then at the museum, I thought maybe I was wrong, but then at the end of the night, when you … well.”
Asher took a step toward her. “Bea, I need to tell you, about that night—”
“Please,” she stopped him, “just let me get this out, okay? I need to say this.”
He nodded. Her heart was pounding, and she thought for a second about changing her mind—but she knew, from somewhere deep, that she had to go on.
“I don’t know why you didn’t want to kiss me,” she said quietly. “Maybe you’re not attracted to me, or maybe you sensed me holding back, or—I don’t know, something else. But I want to tell you, um. That I think you’re great. And I really like you. And if you can—I mean, if you want to—I want to try. That’s what I wanted to say.”
Asher took another step forward, and for a moment she thought he was going to wrap his arms around her—he didn’t.
But God, she wanted him to.
“Bea, the reason I didn’t kiss you at the museum is because I have two children.”
Bea gaped in disbelief. “I’m sorry. You what?”
“I know.” He smiled sadly. “I should have told you. My son is the one who submitted me for this show; I never would have come here if it hadn’t meant so much to him. I thought there was no way I’d actually be interested in a woman I met on reality television of all places, that I’d be here for a week or two at most and come home with nothing more than a funny story to tell my students. But then I met you, and you were … nothing like I expected.”
Bea felt anxious. “In a bad way?”
“No.” Asher laughed. “In
every
way. You were so quick-witted with Johnny and the other men, and kind of mean and over this whole thing in the same way I was. I found myself wanting to spend more time with you, and I was furious you didn’t seem to want that too. Do you remember the first thing you said to me?”
Bea flushed with horror at the memory of how cold she’d been to Asher on the night of the premiere, still reeling that the man before him had simply walked offstage.
“I told you to go ahead and leave.”
Asher nodded. “I told myself I’d stick around long enough to get to know you, see if there might be an attraction between us. Then, at the museum … I can’t remember the last time I felt like that. I wanted—well, I think you know what I wanted.”
“I didn’t, Asher. I thought you were repulsed by me.”
His face fell in dismay. “You can’t be serious.”
She nodded, and he took her hand.
“Bea, I am so sorry.”
“Me too,” she whispered.
He lifted her hand to his chest so she could feel his heart pounding, leaned down so his face was inches from hers.
“When I walked out of that museum,” he said softly, “I thought I was protecting my kids. They know how it feels to be abandoned, and with the way this show is set up, the odds of us actually pursuing a relationship outside of it? The idea of risking their hopes—and mine—seemed indefensible.”
Bea’s breath was shallow. “And now?”
“Now I think the only indefensible action would be to let you go.”