Page 34 of Perfect Composition

“Damn you, Beckett. Why the hell do you have to step in it now?”

I don’t know how long I sit there before I push to my feet and continue to pack.

San Antonio is still warm by the time I arrive after dinner the next night. I immediately drive to the hotel in the historic district and text my daughter to let her know I’ll see her after the show.

Carefully, I lay everything out on the desk—a timeline of heartbreak for her to follow.

I wait for her to arrive, nervously drinking a pot of coffee.

When the knock on the door comes after one thirty, I’m as prepared as I can be.

I fling open the latch after checking to make certain it’s Austyn. And she immediately crashes into my arms. We stand in the open doorway for a few moments, clinging to the last moments of her ignorance.

Finally, I draw her into the room. “I’d like to tell you a story before you look at everything I’ve laid out.”

“Mama, I feel like I’ve waited my whole life for this.”

I take her hand and bring her to the sofa.

“It started with Gramps telling the story of how he proposed to Grams.”

“He always tells that story,” Austyn murmurs.

I smooth a hand over her head. “True. But I don’t know what made that day so different. Maybe it was because he wasn’t just telling it.”

“What was it, then?”

I’ve given this a lot of thought over the years. “It was their anniversary. Your Uncle Jesse and Uncle Ethan were missing her something fierce. And, of course, so was Gramps. But no one could see how much I was hurting.”

Austyn immediately picks up why. “Because you were alive and she wasn’t.”

“Yes, darling. It’s…difficult…to know your very breath has caused someone else’s to cease. To know if I wasn’t inside Grams, they could have tried different drugs to stop the infection. A cut from a fence she let go too long.” My voice trails off, wonder and bitterness filling it. “I still don’t understand why.”

“Umm, Mama? You’ve met Gramps, right? He’d have had her bedridden for months over a scratch,” Austyn says drolly.

“Have I mentioned how much of a smart-ass you are?”

“Must be from my father’s side of the family.” She gives me her usual response.

“No. It’s from ours.” Then I take a deep breath and tell her the first piece of truth. “Your musical talent comes from him. The night I met him, he was at the old homestead. Somehow, he found the old piano, and he was playing a song I’d never heard.”

She inhales sharply. “He was a musician?”

“He still is.”

She absorbs that blow. “Okay.”

I give her a moment before I tell her, “The first thing I ever said to him was, ‘You know you’re trespassing?’”

Austyn stares at me mutely a moment before asking, “What did he say?”

I remember it as if it was yesterday.

PAIGE

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Conversation starter: you’ve suddenly won a major lottery. Do you keep or change your name and phone number? Discuss.