Letters from Becca: A Contemporary Romance Fiction Novel (4 page)

John looked at Becca, then glared at David without saying a word.

David took his hand off the car and exhaled.  “Well, I was just keeping Becca company until you got here.”  When John didn’t say anything, he turned to Becca.  “You take care, okay?  I’ll see you Sunday.”  He turned back to John, nodded once more, patted the car, then walked away.

“What’s wrong with you?  You didn’t have to be so rude to him,” Becca reprimanded.

“See you Sunday?” he repeated sarcastically.

“Church, John.  See you at church,” she said, slamming her pom-poms against her legs.  She shook her head, turned, walked away.

John turned off the car, got out, and followed her.  “Becca, I’m sorry.”  He ran to catch up with her and grabbed her arm.  “I’m just mad because coach was mad.  Let’s not do this now, okay?”

Becca turned, tears in her eyes.  “You
always
do this!  Now you’re getting mad and you’re taking it out on David?  He’s your best friend.”  She looked into his eyes.

“
You’re
my best friend,” he reminded her.

She sighed.  “So, why are you doing this?” she shook her head.  “I don’t understand.  You won, for God’s sake.”

John grabbed her and hugged her.  “You’re right.  I’m sorry.”

Becca pushed away and looked around, almost embarrassed.

“What’s wrong?” John asked, confused.  He studied her face and stepped back.  “Are you afraid someone will see?”

Becca stepped further away from him, getting angry herself.  “You know, this is a bad idea.  Us,” she looked down, unable to face him.  “We went from being best friends to this,” she motioned between them.  “I don’t even know what this is anymore.  We don’t feel right anymore.  It feels like I’m walking on eggshells every time I’m around you lately.  You’re moody all the time.”

He hung his head.

“I want to go back to being friends. 
Best friends.
  This is all too confusing.” She wiped away a tear.

John looked up.  “I love you, Becca.”

“I love you, too.  But I don’t like feeling this way.”

John rubbed her arms, then took her hands.  “What do I have to do to make it right?”

Becca shook her head.  “I don’t know, John.  I just know I can’t do this anymore.  Aunt Betty said—” she began.

“I knew it!”  John pulled away.  “I knew someone was putting ideas in your head.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” she sobbed.  “I needed someone to talk to.”

“You can talk to
me
,” he insisted.

“I can’t talk to you,” she retorted.  “You’re working all the time, either on schoolwork or at the market.  We hardly see each other, and when we do, we are usually arguing.  You don’t like my friends.  You don’t like my aunt.”

“They don’t like
me
,” he defended.

“You’re wrong,” she cried.  “About that.  About a lot of things,” she said, wiping her nose with her jacket sleeve.  “She listens to me.”

“I listen to you, Becca,” he said.

“No,” she sniffed.  “You don’t listen.”  Becca wiped her eyes.  “You tell me
your
plans; you tell me
our
plans.  You keep saying you’re doing this for us.  But you didn’t ask me how I felt about you leaving for college or you joining the Army.  You tell me what
we’re
going to do, but it’s always about what
you
want to do.”

“I just want to get us out of this town,” he explained.

Becca looked at him.  “You never asked me if I wanted to leave, John.  You just told me that’s what
we
were doing.”  She sniffed and leaned her head back and closed her eyes.  After drawing a deep breath, she looked him in the eyes.  “I don’t want to leave here, John.”

John just stared at her.

“I never wanted to leave.  Those were
your
plans, John.  That’s what you wanted to do.”

John sighed.  “You should have told me.”

“I tried telling you, John.  But you never listened.  You didn’t want to hear it.  You had everything planned out and didn’t care what I wanted.  You always say you know what’s best for us.”

“I want something
better
for us,” he pleaded for her understanding.  “You can graduate from a better school.”

“I don’t
want
to finish school somewhere else.  I want to finish here.  I don’t want to go to college out of state.  I want to stay in Texas.”

“But I thought—” he began.

“John, the reason I couldn’t talk to you about my problem was… “She sighed, “
You
were the problem.”

“Fine,” he said angrily, as he turned and walked to his car.  As he left, he peeled out of the parking lot, sending pebbles flying everywhere.

Becca dropped her head to her hands and cried where he left her, alone in the shadows.

John stood in the shadow of the two-story house on the quiet neighborhood street.  The cool wind blew gently around him as he leaned over, gathering pebbles and small pieces of wood from under the manicured, blooming shrubs.  He stepped back, hidden from the street by the tri-colored dappled willows that served to fence in the perimeter of Becca’s aunt and uncle’s property.  It also served as a good windbreak when the north wind blew.

John stepped back and tossed a piece of the wood at Becca’s window.  It had been over three hours since he left her.  He was certain she would have arrived by now.  Initially, he didn’t feel bad for leaving her since there were dozens of people there when he left.  After driving around angry for thirty minutes and cooling off, he went back to the school.  Just in case.  Not that she would have ridden with him, since he had stranded her.  When he arrived at school, the lot was empty.  Then he made the disastrous mistake of going home.

Becca’s house was not fancy, but was well-maintained, well-manicured.  What else did her aunt and uncle have to do with their time, besides being active at church?  Becca used to comment that every time the doors were open at the United Hills Methodist Church, they were there.

John worked every weekend.  Depending on his work schedule, he rarely attended Sunday morning services anymore.  Besides, he was tired of the looks and the whispers when he did darken the church doors.  Thanks to the Blue Law, most businesses were closed Sundays.  But there were many small mom-and-pop operations, especially farms, that didn’t observe the Blue Law.  They welcomed those who weren’t necessarily committed to attending services to work, which freed them up to attend themselves.  Not to mention, it paid a little better, since there were fewer workers available on Sunday mornings.

John looked up.  The light in her room was still off.  He threw another piece of wood, a little harder this time.  Still no light.  He gently tossed a small pebble.  Then another.  The curtain moved.  Then he saw her, standing at the window, staring down, looking around.  He stepped out of the shadows just long enough for her to see him looking up at her.  Becca stared right at him for at least ten seconds before backing out of view.  John stepped back into the shadows.  Either she was so angry with him that she wouldn’t come down, or she wanted to give him a piece of her mind—and would.  Within a minute, he had his answer.

The cool wind rustled the trees around him.  It was a nice old house in a nice old neighborhood.  Becca deserved that.  She deserved that and so much more.  Since she had moved away from her family farm, she’d changed.  She was more carefree.  Because he still lived with his father, he couldn’t comprehend that feeling.  When she had moved in with her aunt and uncle, it must have been terrifying, yet liberating at the same time.  People didn’t think she was white trash anymore, so they treated her better.  That was, until she started dating John.  Some of her friends thought she was dating beneath herself, since he was from the
wrong
side of the tracks.

He turned as he heard the front door squeak.  Becca stepped out slowly, carefully shutting the door behind her so as not to wake her aunt and uncle.  She stood with her back to the door, pulling her long robe tighter around her.  John stepped forward, staying in the shadows as he walked toward the short wrought-iron railing that lined the two steps up to the front porch.  She hadn’t turned the lights on, so he couldn’t see her face.  Maybe she was as intent as he was on hiding his face.

“What are you doing here?” she asked softly.  “You know if they find you here…” she faltered.

John stepped out of the shadows and Becca gasped.

“Oh, my God, John!” She stepped down one step toward him.  “He did this to you, didn’t he?” she asked, reaching for his cheek.

John turned his cheek away at her touch.

“What happened?”

“I forgot to take out the garbage.  I didn’t clean my room.  I didn’t feed the dog.  I changed the play,” he said emphatically.  “What does it matter?”

Becca tried to brush his cheek again.  This time, he didn’t turn away.  He raised his hand to take hers as she held his cheek.  She stepped down another step, leaned closer and looked at his hand.  It was cut and encrusted with blood.  She gently held his hand in her palm.  “Oh, John,” she said sadly.

“Know how I got this?” he asked her.  “I fought back.  For the first time in my life, I told him I wasn’t going to take it anymore.”

Tears ran down her face as she held his face in her hands.  She reached to hug him, and he grimaced.  She looked down and pulled up his shirt.  Even in the dark she could see the bruising on his ribs.

“That’s when I got this,” he added, pulling his shirt back down.

“You’ve got to tell someone,” she implored.

“I’m telling
you
.”

“Call the police, John,” she pleaded.

“Right,” he scoffed. 
“The police.
  Then he gets out, and there’s hell to pay.”

Becca held his face in her hands and gently kissed his cheek, then his swelling eye.  He stepped back.  “Becca, I’m so, so sorry about earlier.  I was wrong.  I know I hurt you.  I don’t mean to hurt you.”  He dropped his forehead to hers.

Becca held her finger to his lips, trying not to cry, but not succeeding.  She nodded and smiled through the tears.

“You were right.  I’ve been so wrong.  I’m sorry.”

“None of that matters now,” she spoke softly.  “John, you’ve got to get out of there now before he kills you.  You can stay with us,” she begged.

John laughed.  “Oh, right.  Your aunt would
love
that.”

“You can’t go home,” she reasoned.

“I’m not going home,” he said, taking her hand in his.  “I’m leaving.  I’ve had it with him, and with this stupid little town and with all the narrow-minded little people who live here.  Here I’m just a chip off the old block.”  He stepped closer to her, his voice cracking as he whispered, “I’m afraid I’m going to become him.  And I never wanted to be less like anyone in my whole life.”  He looked into her eyes.  “If I stay, he’ll kill me, just like he killed your mom and everything else decent in his life.”  John brushed her cheek with his injured hand.  “In fact, I’ve already left.  I just got in the car and drove.  I didn’t even know where I was going, or how far I got.  Halfway to San Antonio, I think.  Then I realized I forgot something.”

John looked deep into her eyes.  “I came back for you, Becca,” he said.  He leaned in slowly and kissed her gently on the lips.  “Come with me Becca.  Right now.  Tonight.  We’ll start over.  We’ll make a life somewhere else.  Just you and me.”

Becca stepped backward up the stairs, pulling her robe tighter around her.

“I know it’s not what you want, Becca, but I can’t do
this
anymore,” he said.  “You don’t belong here any more than I do.  Away from here, we can get a new start together.”

Becca slowly shook her head and looked down.

“I can take anything that bastard can dish out.  I can take whatever people say.  But I can’t leave here without you, Becca.  I love you.  I’ve always loved you,” he pleaded.

Becca looked up, tears rolling down her face.  “I love you, too, John.  You’ve always been there for me, taken care of me.  When my mom died…” she began, sobbing softly for a moment, “when I fell out of that big tree by the river, and we thought I broke my arm.”  She chuckled through tears.  “Remember, you carried me all the way to the neighbor’s house, like five miles away.”

John smiled.  “It was only one.”

Becca replied.  “Regardless, you’ve always taken care of me.  I can’t imagine what my life would be without you.”

“So, don’t,” he begged.  “Come with me, Becca.”

Becca shook her head again.  “I can’t,” she said softly.

John stepped back and shook his head.  “You know, when my mom left, I couldn’t understand how she could have left me with him.  She didn’t have anyone.” he shoved his hands into his jacket pockets.  “No family, no friends, thanks to him.  I used to wonder where she could possibly go,” he asked, holding up his hands without taking them out of his pockets.  “For years I never forgave her for leaving me with that bastard.  I hated her for leaving me.  I
hated
her,” he said pacing in a circle before turning back toward Becca.  “Now I understand.  I even envy her.  She wasn’t walking out on
me
.  She was running for her life.”

Becca drew her robe tighter around her.  “John, I…” she began, but stood silently.

“I don’t have anywhere to go, Becca.  And I don’t have anyone else,” he said stepping toward her again, “except you.”  He took his hands out of his pockets and reached for hers again.  “You’re
all
I have.”  He took her hands, drew in a breath and shook his head before looking at her again.  “But, if you ask me to stay, Becca, I will.”

Becca stepped back, her hands slowly slipping from his.  “I can’t,’ she said softly.  “I couldn’t.”

John pursed his lips and nodded in understanding.  “I know.”  Then he slowly walked backward.  “I know.”

Becca rushed down the stairs, and he stepped back to her.  He held her tight, though it hurt.  He never wanted to let her go.  He closed his eyes and caressed her soft, brown hair.  “I love you, Becca,” he said.  He felt her head nod under his touch.

The porch light turned on and the front door squeaked open.  They turned together to see Aunt Betty, hands on hips on the front porch.  “Rebecca Leigh!  Get in this house this instant.  It’s after midnight, and you have chores in the morning.”

Becca turned to John one last time and smiled sweetly.  He held her forehead to his and smiled back.

“Yes ma’am,” she said as she backed away from him.

“I might have known it was you.  Young man, are you aware what time it is?” she asked, as Becca slowly walked toward her.  Betty’s eyes followed Becca into the house before she turned back toward John.  “You know the rules, and yet you continue to ignore them.  I think it’s best…” she began.  He took a step toward her into the light, causing her to stop.  She drew in a deep breath, then said in a softer tone, “I think it’s best you leave now.”

“Yes, ma’am,” John said as he walked backward again.

Betty motioned toward him with her hand.  “You should see a doctor,” she said sincerely.

“Yes ma’am,” he said politely.  He looked up to the window to see Becca looking down at him.  He smiled a sad smile, then turned back to her Aunt Betty.  “Goodnight, ma’am.”

Betty watched him until he turned the corner past her dappled willows.  She waited until she heard his car start and the tires squeal as he pulled away.  Then she walked back inside, locked the door, and turned off the porch light.