Think Of It As A Positive

 

BECKETT HAD A HARD TIME falling asleep, and tossed and turned. About midnight, he slipped into a restful sleep, but he awoke at 3:00. He listened for anything that might have woken him, but there were no sounds.

He could hear Stacy’s even breathing in the other room. His bedroom, now hers. How had that happened, exactly?

He got up and made a run to the store for Oreos — three different colors and flavors since he didn’t know her preference. Luckily Monster Mart was open all night and he, being a vampire who could walk in the sun without harm, still thrived in the dark of the night. He also got the ingredients to fix Stacy a spicy quiche, which always got raves from breakfast guests.

He very much wanted to make up to her for what he thought was setting her free from something she didn’t want, and which she obviously saw as rejection.

He’d start with a tasty breakfast and lunch, and take her on a date this evening.

It was Sunday, so she wouldn’t be going to the studio for her job, and he wanted to make her happy.

Ever since she’d voiced the word “consummate,” he’d been agitated. No, before that. Ever since Yolanda had barged her way into Julia’s wedding reception, he’d been rattled. And when she’d told him she wanted him to forgive her? Well, there was no word to describe that disturbance in the force.

Forgive the fiend who’d ripped his life from him?

Forgive the monster who’d wanted to make him her captive?

Forgive the vampire who’d taken everything from him?

No. It wasn’t going to happen. He didn’t care how healing Stacy thought it would be, he could not condone what Yolanda had done. And she’d only served two years for killing him. It wasn’t long enough to serve as punishment. He was glad Stacy had been able to forgive Jerkface — he needed to ask her the real name so he could punish that one — but Beckett clung to his anger at Yolanda Yates.

He drove his Tesla into the garage and hopped out, carrying the grocery bags inside the house with him as the garage door rattled down.

He paused in the kitchen and listened for sounds. Stacy was still sleeping.

She was sure sleeping soundly for someone who’d been so upset. She was sleeping much more soundly than he had slept.

Good. With a good night’s sleep and some good food, perhaps he could worm himself back into her good graces.

He hoped so, because he was finding that he hated having her upset with him.

By the time he heard her stir at six the next morning, he was putting the quiche in the oven, along with some blueberry muffins in case she was in the mood for sweeter foods. He wasn’t taking any chances.

If he couldn’t grovel with words, perhaps he could with food.

 

 

Stacy showered in the master bathroom, enjoying the spacious room. She took her time fixing her hair and putting on makeup. She had to look her best for Beckett today. And, if her little plan was going to work, she had to make it look like a normal day.

The people she’d phoned last night had gotten on board, and she hoped it would make all the difference. She dressed in her cutest outfit, the one she’d been wearing when they’d met just nine days before.

In less than two weeks, Beckett had become so precious to her. She couldn’t imagine living without him, which was why she’d refused to let him free her from the contract. As if.

Finally, when she felt she looked her best, she went downstairs and found him in the kitchen.

“Wow,” she said. There was food everywhere on the counters — a pan of muffins, a baking dish with what looked like quiche, and Belgian waffles with strawberries and whipped cream. “Are we having guests this morning?”

“It’s all for you.” Beckett seemed subdued. “I’d have fixed humble pie, but I wasn’t sure what ingredients I’d need. I’m very sorry about last night, Stacy. I do not want you to go — ever. But I saw the look in your eyes and thought you didn’t want to be with me.”

Her heart softened, but she couldn’t let it show. She had plans for the day, and they didn’t involve caving this early in the day. “I forgive you.”

“I—” he began, but then stopped, looking confused. “You do?”

“I do.”

He drew in a deep breath of relief, amazed at the power those words had. “Thank you. I promise to never do anything like that again.”

“Thank you,” she said seriously. “Because you’ll owe me another house and another million dollars if you do.”

“I fixed you breakfast. And there’s lemon-broccoli chicken and rice cooking for lunch.”

“You think I’m really hungry, don’t you?” She couldn’t help smiling at his efforts to get back in her good graces.

“I hope I can ply you with good food and you won’t be upset with me anymore.”

“I hope it works,” she teased.

 

 

Sunday had gone by without incident, but not without stress. Stacy was worried about how Beckett would take what was about to happen, and Beckett must have sensed something was up, because he seemed agitated.

It couldn’t be helped. This needed to happen, and she didn’t know how else to go about it.

She’d thought about visiting Yolanda in jail, but that would be too difficult for Beckett until he was ready. She couldn’t force him — just prove to be a catalyst. She hoped.

Beckett had fixed her a delicious dinner, as well. “I owe you a few meals,” she said.

“No. I need to do this. Please let me pamper you for a while.”

Reluctantly, she let him keep her from helping with the dishes or anything. While he washed, he said, “Tell me about growing up in Wamega. About going to school there. What your favorite subjects were.”

So they’d shared stories of their childhood with each other, about dating experiences, about school. She’d graduated two years before, and he’d gotten in two years before being turned, and then Jack helped him get into online school to finish getting his degree in computer science. “He invested in my business, too, to get it off the ground.”

“The video game?”

He nodded. “It was so popular that I was able to pay him back in the first six months after launching it.”

“That’s impressive.”

“I’ve been blessed with good friends,” he said.

“Are you going to tell your parents we got married?”

He sighed and was silent for a long moment, so she asked, gently, “Have you even talked to them since you got turned?”

He blinked and said, “I mailed them a letter telling them that I’d been in an accident overseas and was being taken care of, but had been disfigured and didn’t want them to see me.”

“Wow. That will be hard to come back from.” She studied his face, tipping her head. “Well, you do have that one blackhead on your nose. That’s pretty horrifying.”

“I miss them,” he admitted.

“I think you should call them. Invite them out to stay with us.”

“Give me a couple of days to get used to the idea,” he said.

“Sure.” She nodded.

The doorbell rang, and she froze.

It was show time.

“I’ll get it,” she said, trying to keep her voice casual.

He studied her. “All right.”

 

 

Beckett forced himself to hang back while Stacy answered the door. With his vampire hearing, he already knew Michael and Dixie were at the door, and others were there, too.

When Stacy opened the door, in walked Michael and Dixie, Jack and Beth, Jingle and Nicholas, Samuel and Amber, Cara and Isaac, even Fire Chief Kea and Poppy, the Sleight of Hound lady who bred specialty magical dogs.

Twelve people coming in to his house at once, and it was obvious Stacy had invited them. His heart sank. Had she asked them to help kick him out so she could lay claim to his entire house, not just his bedroom?

Dread filled him, even as Stacy tried to sound cheerful as she welcomed them all in, as Dixie introduced her to Kea and Poppy, whom she hadn’t met yet.

She directed them to seats around the living room, and had even brought out some of his folding chairs while he was upstairs changing.

He had a bad feeling about this, though everyone greeted him warmly, even hugged him.

Then they all sat down, and he slid onto a chair with a sinking heart.

Jack rose and said, “I suppose you’re wondering why we’re here.”

Beckett nodded. “Yes.”

“This is an intervention, Beckett,” Jack said.

“An intervention? What for? I’m not an alcoholic.”

“No, but you’re a man who’s had a lot of trauma in his life. We’re here because we love you and want you to make this marriage work. You’ve found your Lifemate, something some people haven’t found for centuries. Julia turned a century old when she went looking for her Lifemate and found Luke.”

“I know I’m blessed,” he said. He wouldn’t apologize for finding Stacy.

“Then open your heart to what we’re going to say, because we’re all here out of love for you.”

“I’ll do my best,” Beckett said, and settled in for the ride.

Dixie stood and said, “You need to get this other woman out of your heart. She’s this thorn in your heart and it will affect everything in your marriage, even if you don’t realize it.”

“There is no other woman,” Beckett said.

Dixie nodded. “Yolanda Yates. You need to forgive her and let it go so you can have a chance at a happy marriage.”

He knew this was about Yolanda, and they wanted to force him to forgive the monster. He didn’t think he could, but he pushed back the resistance he felt, the resentment, and tried to listen with an open heart.

Each person took a turn standing, saying how much they cared for Beckett, and how much they wanted him to let Yolanda go.

Finally, Stacy stood. “I love you, Beckett, and I want to be your wife, but I need you to pluck out the thorn of Yolanda from your heart. I don’t want anyone else in our marriage.”

“Maybe think of it as a positive,” Michael said.

“A positive.” He replied flatly. That was a tough one.

“Yeah,” Michael said. “If Yolanda hadn’t turned you and you hadn’t stayed in Moonchuckle Bay, you would never have found Stacy. Finding your Lifemate is an amazing thing.”

Then they were all sitting and watching him for his reaction.

Michael’s words hit him hard. After long moments, he said, “I love you, Stacy. I can’t even imagine going through life — unlife — without you. And I would go through it all again if it meant I can have you with me.”

“So you’ll sign the paper for Yolanda?” Stacy asked, breathless.

“I need a few days to work through this but, yes. I will sign it. I will work on forgiving her.”

“When?”

She wasn’t going to let him put this off, apparently. “You have a full week of work, so what about this next Saturday?” That was five days away and would give him time to work on fully letting it go.

Stacy flew into his arms, hugging him. “I love you, Beckett.”

Those were the sweetest words he’d ever heard, and they brought healing, too. “I love you, too, my beautiful Stacy.”

And then people were surrounding him, laughing and hugging.