Page 43 of Home Brewed (The Perfect Cup #1)

Beck

I t’s late afternoon and I know that Hazel and Nessa finished their brunch quite a while ago, but Hazel still hasn’t made it back home yet.

I don’t want to be overbearing. I’ve sent her a few unanswered texts.

I’ve called her a few times, each one going to voicemail.

With Justin not being entirely stable, I’m less inclined to blindly believe that she’s okay.

After a quick chat with Nessa, I learned that they had a pretty intense talk, and while Nessa claimed girl code and wouldn’t tell me what it was about, I have a sinking feeling that it’s about us.

I know she’s been worried about moving too quickly, despite what she says about her last year with Justin not really being a real relationship at all.

Based on Justin’s actions, he still thinks she’s going back to him.

Besides the cameras I installed at the bar, I also got a doorbell cam for the house, wanting to have some security measures in place if he does show his face.

I haven’t told her yet. I know she’ll think I’m going too far.

Honestly, I don’t think I’ve gone far enough.

I would move mountains if I thought it would keep her safe.

When my call goes to voicemail for the fifth time and my string of texts is still unanswered, I pull up my Find my Friends app. We had set it up a while ago, when Justin started up on his bullshit, and I don’t want to abuse it, but if I’m ever going to whip it out, now would be the time.

When it finally loads, I can see that she’s still close by.

She’s in a residential area walking around, so I at least know where her phone is.

In a panic, I hop into my car and start driving to her location.

At best, she’ll be annoyed with me for following her, but hopefully, she’ll be understanding.

At worst… I don’t even want to think about all the things that could have happened to her, and what state she could be in if someone else has her phone.

I’m slowly crawling the streets with the app open on my dashboard. I have never felt like a bigger creep in my entire life, but if I can confirm she’s okay, it’ll be worth it. I pull around a corner onto a street with some dumb fruit name, and I see a swish of dark hair over a brown jacket.

I don’t want to alarm her, so I continue my slow approach when I see someone walk out of an apartment building.

It’s a tiny blonde lady in a pink power suit with a stack of papers in her hand.

She reaches forward to shake Hazel’s hand before escorting her into the building.

Right next to the front door is a vacancy sign.

She’s looking at new apartments.

She’s looking at new apartments and didn’t tell me.

I don’t know which part stings more. Despite being a new couple, she’d said she was happy with our situation.

She asked to move back into my room, and the way my heart swelled at her sweet request almost took me out at the knees.

I pull over onto a side street and throw the car in park, pushing my hands through my hair frustratingly.

I don’t know what to do. This is new territory for me, and while I’ve been pretty confident in my boyfriend abilities up until now, I don’t know how to navigate this. I take out my phone, scanning my contacts.

I don’t want to talk to Nessa. Firstly because her and Hazel are becoming friends and I don’t want her to feel like she has to pick a side, especially with Hazel’s history, however, she doesn’t seem to be in the best headspace lately.

I’ve tried asking her about it, but she can be a locked box when she wants to, which is strangely at odds with her personality.

James is out of the question too, he’s not a huge relationship guy, plus we don’t really talk about this kind of stuff.

We mostly communicate through fist bumps and grunts, which works for us, but not so helpful for advice giving.

And I know Grant is out on date night with his wife tonight.

I finally find a viable number and click call.

It only rings twice before my mom picks up.

“Hi, mamá,” I say the moment I hear her pick up.

“Hi, Beck! How are you? I wasn’t expecting a call!” Her voice soothes me, wrapping me up in the love she’s always shown everyone around her. She is amazing at making you feel important and heard without being a total pushover.

“Mamá…” I exhale slowly, “I need some advice.”

“Oh? What for?”

“It’s about a girl…” I start and she squeals.

“I KNEW it! I knew it! I knew there was a girl, you were so evasive! What’s her name? What is she like?” She’s getting ahead of herself, and it’s very sweet to see, but I need her to focus right now.

“Mamá, I need help.”

“Oh my god, did you get her pregnant? Am I going to be an Abuela?”

Okay, maybe I shouldn’t have called my mom.

“Hazel’s not pregnant, mamá,” I sigh into the roof.

“Hazel, what a beautiful name! Okay, okay, tell me what’s wrong.”

“She’s been staying with me for a while now. She needed a place to stay, and I offered my place.”

“Of course, your heart is so big, so she’s been staying with you? That’s a good thing, right?”

“Well, yes, it’s still very new. I don’t want to scare her away. I want her to stay. For a long time, actually.” I can’t keep the emotion from my voice when I think about a future with her. I want everything with her .

“Oh, Beck, that’s wonderful news. I am so happy for you.” Apparently, she can’t keep the emotion out of hers either and I hear a sniffle from the other end. “So, what’s the problem?”

“Well, she didn’t come home after an outing with a friend, and she wasn’t answering her phone, so I sort of tracked her down…”

“PHILIP BECKETT!” comes her indignant shout, “You’re stalking her?

What would your father say?” My father and her separated fifteen years ago and he moved to Vancouver.

He lived there for ten years before becoming very sick, and he passed away a few years back.

While my parents had their differences, they were always respectful of one another and had admirable values that they passed on to me.

“I know, mamá, I was worried she was hurt! Anyway, I saw her looking at apartment buildings. It makes sense, but she didn’t even talk to me about it, so I don’t know how to approach it with her.” I’m so frustrated when I say it out loud, the reality of it hitting me. She wants to move out.

“And you’re upset? Tell me, are you more upset that she’s moving out? Or that she didn’t tell you.”

“I think that she didn’t tell me what she needed, and she’s going behind my back.”

“Do you think she has a reason?” I should have known my mother would be on her side.

“Well…” I give her a brief rundown of what transpired with Justin, the lying, him destroying her apartment, the things he’s said to her.

I tell her a little about Hazel’s mom and family, and the things Marie—I hope she rots in hell—said to her.

My mother listens patiently while I spill everything out to her, keeping some personal details to myself on Hazel’s behalf.

I don’t want to break her trust by airing out her dirty laundry, whether or not she knows about it.

“Okay, so Hazel is pretty independent, right? ”

“Yes, mamá, she is. She is so strong, but she always feels like she has to do everything alone, even when I try to help.” I can feel myself starting to whine a little.

“Okay, let me ask you this. If you’re the only one showing her she can depend on people, and it’s new, why should she believe you?

” That takes me aback. I wasn’t expecting to feel attacked.

The protectiveness in my mother’s voice is firm, and my heart warms for Hazel, even though she doesn’t know she’s being defended right now.

She has people on her side she doesn’t even know about.

“I’ve been trying to show her–”

“Well, don’t stop trying, but don’t be upset at her doing things that she needs to in order to protect herself, either!

Put yourself in her shoes. Why would you not have a backup plan?

Why would you not be doing things to take care of yourself the best way you know how, if you are the only person who has ever taken care of you?

Oh, this poor girl, she’s been alone even when she’s with someone!

You need to show her that you love her even when she is not next to you, that she is never alone, even if she feels she is. ”

“So, I just have to be okay with this?”

“YES,” comes her resounding response. It leaves no room for questions.

It’s final. “You will be okay with it, and you will let her heal the way she needs. This is not about a relationship for her, it’s about putting her needs first so she can feel safe.

You cannot open up to others and be ready for new things if you are not safe. ”

“When did you get a psychology degree, mamá?” She’s not pulling any punches, but her advice is phenomenal.

“I’m your mother, you know I’m wise,” she sniffs. “Are you going to talk to her?”

“I think I’ll wait for her to bring it up, I don’t want her to feel judged.”

“That’s a smart move. I hope it all goes well. You’ve seemed happier lately, and I know it has to do with her.” I can hear her smile through the phone.

“It does, she’s amazing. ”

“You love her.” It’s a statement, not a question.

“Yes.”

“I cannot wait to meet her. Anyone who can pull you out of your office and make you sound this happy must be wonderful. Can I meet her when I visit?”

“Of course.” I’m overflowing with love, knowing how much my happiness means to my mother, and also knowing the kind of love she’ll give Hazel when they meet.

“Your cousin, Maria, is coming up to visit you,” she throws in casually.

“Wait, what? When?” This is the first I’m hearing about it.

“At the end of November. She asked her mamá to ask me to ask you if she could work in your restaurant while she gets her bearings.” Again, coming in as a statement and not a question. Very typical of my family.