“I will stand on the street corner in a croissant outfit and pass out flyers if you stay.”
I laughed, trying to imagine Jules as a croissant. “I might take you up on that. Goodbye, you nut.”
“See you later.”
“Hey, kid. What’s so funny?” my dad asked as I walked into the kitchen.
I still hadn’t told Dad about the business. I wanted to firm up some things and then surprise him. I knew he’d be proud, and happy that I would be staying in Cedar Falls. He’d taken it really hard when I left for France, and even worse when I decided to stay.
“Jules,” I said, evasively. “How’s the bread-making going?”
“Not bad,” he said, taking his latest masterpiece from the oven. “It’s a good distraction.”
I breathed in the smell of fresh baked bread and could already taste it. “I bet it’s hard, huh? Not being at the bar?”
“Eh, it’s not so bad. Specially since your mom and I are already making plans to go back and get settled into the condo.”
“That’s awesome,” I said, taking butter from the fridge. “I can’t wait to see it.”
Dad turned off the oven. “I still can’t believe we snagged it.”
He looked at me, as if he knew something I didn’t.
“What’s the weird look for?”
“The money. For the downpayment. He went to his parents, didn’t he?”
Wait, what? “Beck?”
“No, the other guy who bought the bar.”
“Honestly, I have no idea. He didn’t mention it. But…” That made sense. Sort of. It was a lot of cash to have sitting around. But the idea of Beck asking his parents for money? “If he did”—I shook my head and looked my dad in the face, already sensing the answer—“that would be huge. It’d kill him to ask them for anything, especially money.”
My dad studied me. “I know.”
Suddenly, this wasn’t just about the condo. Or whether or not Beck had asked his parents for money. It was about his relationship with my parents, something that meant a lot to him. And us. I slunk into the chair.
“Dad?” I asked. Mom would kill me, that she wasn’t the first to know. Only because there wasn’t much to know, yet. “I think we need to talk. About Beck.”
43
BECK
“Afternoon, son.”
“Thanks for coming, Mr. O’Malley. Can I talk to you in the back?”
I’d texted to ask him in, and the sooner I got this over with the better. “Spence,” I called to the kid. “Man the bar?”
Without question, Spence took over as Mae’s dad and I walked to the back office. Not wanting to drag it out, when the door closed, I dove right in, having thought about this speech all night.
“I’m sorry to spring this on you, since I’m sure Mae hasn’t said anything about it, but…” There were nerves, like putting skis on for the first time in years and standing at the top of a double black diamond because your buddies were doing it. Or getting a call that your sister was in a car accident and in the hospital, the worst phone call I’d ever gotten, and only two days after she passed her driver’s license test.
And then there was asking a man you respected to hand over most precious thing in the world to him.
“This is going to come as a surprise, I’m sure, but I’ve been in love with Mae for as long as I can remember.”
He didn’t flinch. But Mr. O’Malley did smile. A good sign.
