Place Your Betts (The Marilyns) (41 page)

How did he fix it? No, how did he and Betts fix this together? She needed to be in on the decision. He had to make things right with her first and then their son. But where did he start?

Oh, hell. He jumped up, stalked into his bedroom, opened his nightstand, and grabbed the golden promise he should have given Betts years ago. Gabe shoved it in his back pocket.

Pulling his keys out of his front pocket, he practically flew out to his truck. Nothing would make it right, but he’d track her down and beg forgiveness. If that didn’t work, he’d superglue himself to her until she gave in. This time, he and Betts would be together, and nothing or no one would stand in his way.

He loved Tom, but Tom would have to wait. Gabe owed his son an apology, but the boy was more likely to forgive than Betts. Plus, Tom only had a half a tank of gas and no money, so he couldn’t get very far.

Gabe glanced at his knees. By the end of the evening, they’d be sore and dirty because he had a lot of groveling to do.

Gabe stepped into his pickup and slammed the door. He might have screwed up on the first go-around, but he wasn’t losing again. His life didn’t work without Betts or Tom, and they could damn well get over it. If Betts didn’t want to ranch, he’d sell the damn thing and become Mr. Betts Monroe—pride wasn’t worth his happiness. And Tom, well, a baby was good news. It might be a little unexpected, but Gabe loved babies. Maybe he’d talk Betts into having another one after he’d hauled her butt in front of the closest minister. She wasn’t getting away, not again.

***

Betts pulled into Gigi’s driveway behind Tom’s truck. Now that she was here, she didn’t know what to say.

“What are you waiting for?” Mama opened her door.

“I don’t…well…what do I say?”

“What is it you told Kaitlin? The words will come?” Mama stepped out of the Mustang.

“I hate when people make me take my own advice.” Betts opened her own door and stepped onto the driveway.

“I have a hunch you won’t need to say much.” Mama smiled as she walked around the front of the car and hooked an arm around Betts’s shoulders.

“What did you do?” Betts knew a cocky Mama was a mischievous Mama.

“Nothin’. Just handed Kaitlin the letters you wrote to Tom—”

“You had no right. Those were personal.” And soul-baring. Her relationship with Tom wasn’t at the point she was comfortable sharing those.

“If you hadn’t wanted him to read them, why did you write them?”

“Those were mine—”

“You should have hidden them in a better place. Anyone could have found them.” Mama squeezed her shoulder. “I’ve been telling you all your life, it’s not my job to be your friend; I’m your momma. I had no qualms about going through your stuff when you were a teenager, and nothing’s changed. Whatever you’re trying to hide, I’m gonna find it.”

“You never said that. In fact, you used to introduce me as your best friend. I used to go through your things and throw out the marijuana.”

“That was you? I thought I was becoming forgetful. That’s why I stopped—I figured Mary Jane was softening my brain.” Mama dropped her arm and tugged her sequin tee shirt down as they stepped in front of Gigi’s front door.

Betts raised her hand to knock, dropped it, and turned. “Who am I kidding? Why would he want to see me?”

“When I first told you about your father, you were angry, and then you wanted to meet him.” Mama turned Betts around. “Give Tom the benefit of the doubt.”

Mama banged on the door and leapt down off the porch. “I’m gonna get a snack at the DQ. See ya.” She trotted across the yard.

“Chicken shit,” Betts called after her.

Mama turned long enough to stick out her tongue, and then she was off again.

The front door swung open. Tom, with his arm around Kaitlin, stared out. Betts got the impression they were holding each other up. They looked at each other and smiled, love shining in their eyes—they had a chance at the real thing even if she and Gabe didn’t.

“May I come in?” Betts shoved her shoulders back and met Tom’s eye. He deserved a mother with a backbone, not a wimp.

“Sure.” Kaitlin nodded. As one unit, she and Tom moved aside. It was kinda like watching a couple participate in a sack race—they had independent limbs, but they moved them together.

“I’m sure there are lots of things you’d like to say to me, but I want you two to hear me out.” Betts closed her eyes and braced herself for what would be a long, hard night.

Two bodies sandwiched her in a fierce hug. Betts’s eyes flew open. Kaitlin was on one side, and Tom was on the other.

“Kat read me your letters. I’m not saying I’m over it, but I understand. Today, of all days, I can relate.” Tom’s voice grumbled into her left ear.

Tears flooded Betts’s eyes. Every time the front door slammed in her face, a back door blew open. She was home, this was her family, and no one would ever force her to leave again.

They stayed like that, just holding each other, for several minutes.

***

An hour later, Betts put her hand on the doorknob and said over her shoulder, “I’m just gonna run next door and get us some supper. My grandbaby’s probably starving. Y’all stay here, and when I get back, I’m gonna tell you what I’d like to do by way of a wedding gift.” She looked back at her beautiful son and his fiancée. “I mean, it’s just an idea. You don’t have to take it. Ultimately, your lives are your choice, but I’d like to give you a head start.”

The more she thought about it, the more she wanted to give them her land and build them a house. She’d buy the land next door or something out at the lake. Kaitlin and Tom should be allowed to make their own home without her interference.

“I’ll be right back.” Betts pulled the door open, stepped outside, and tripped over Gabe. They both tumbled over, and she landed facedown in his lap.

“If I had a nickel for every time I’ve fantasized about this, I’d be a rich man.” Strong hands pulled her up and cradled her in his lap.

“What are you doing here?” She tried to stand, but his arms came around her like steel bands.

“I’ve been sitting out here trying to work up the nerve to knock on the door.” He pulled her against his chest so his chin rested on top of her head. The front door clicked shut behind her. Kaitlin and Tom were giving them some privacy.

Betts sniffed. “You smell like French fries and chocolate milkshake.”

“Had to do a couple of rounds through the drive-thru to build up my courage. I’ve had a steak finger basket, two chocolate milkshakes, a Peanut Buster Parfait, a couple of Texas T-brand tacos, and half a roll of Rolaids. If I hadn’t run out of money, I’d have polished off a chili cheese dog or two.”

“Am I supposed to feel sorry for you or hope your stomach explodes?” Betts struggled against him one last time for good measure and then gave up and relaxed.

“I’m flat broke. The location advance I got from your record label last week was spent paying off my debts. I’ve been working day labor jobs to put food on the table. Pride made me hide it, but I’m tired of hiding things from you. I have nothing to offer you except…me.”

It was decision time. Gabe was baring his soul, and she could either forgive and forget or hold on to the anger and the hurt. This man had been her past and would be her future. Nope, it wasn’t decision time, because she’d chosen him long ago; she’d just gotten a little sidetracked along the way. Slowly, she wrapped her arms around him. It wasn’t a question of trust but pride. She’d never been so happy to be wrong.

“That’s all I ever wanted. A shot at a life with the man I love.” Betts kissed his cheek. “And that’s all Tom and Kaitlin want too—a chance to be together.”

“How can you be sure they’re really in love? I don’t want to sound like my old man, but they’re too young.”

Betts laughed and hugged him tight. This was really happening. “I know because Kaitlin looks at Tom the way I look at you.”

“I could stand to hear it about a million more times.” Gabe ran his hand up and down her back.

“I love you.” Betts could stand telling him a million more times.

“I love you.” Gabe’s voice was strong and steady and true.

“Mind if I kick the tires and take that love out for a test drive?” It’s not that she didn’t believe him, but they needed an equal playing field—something they’d never had. “Give me your checkbook.”

One arm uncurled from around her as Gabe reached in his back pocket and pulled out his tattered leather checkbook holder. “Plan on trying your hand at origami?”

He set it on her lap.

“I have a net worth of between forty-five and fifty million depending on the market. Of that, twenty million is cash in the bank.” Betts flipped to the first check and ripped it out. “I’m transferring ten million dollars into your account in the morning.”

Gabe didn’t so much as blink. He took a deep breath. “Looks like I’m getting a new truck. Hell, maybe I’ll buy a different one for every day of the week.”

“People will say you’re my boy toy. That okay with you?” Betts smiled and leaned her head back to look in his eyes. “Of course, there are two things every self-respecting boy toy has. And you’re not even close.”

“Oh yeah? What two things would those be?”

“Silk thong underwear and a willingness to do my bidding.” She had him now, and she was never letting go. Not everything would always be on her terms, but for right now, she had him where she wanted him—holding her up.

He traced the line of her jaw.

“What if I was your trophy husband? Now, that’s a title I could get behind.” Gabe nuzzled her ear. “I draw the line at changing my last name.”

“What about a hyphen situation? You could be Gabe Swanson-Monroe—”

“I’m serious. I want a real relationship—”

“Mr. Swanson-Monroe, I’m not looking for a relationship, I’m looking for a lifetime.” Betts was getting her happy ever after. It wasn’t normal—but it was normal for her.

“Me too. There’s just one thing left to do.” Gabe fished in his pocket for his high school class ring. “Marry me?”

Betts grabbed the ring and squealed like a teenager. “It took you long enough to place your Betts—nice name for a song.”

Exactly Nine Months Later

Betts sat up in the hospital bed holding the most beautiful baby in the world. Lots of things had changed in the last seventeen years. No longer was this called a delivery room, it was a birthing center. The muted yellows, greens, blues, and pinks tried to tame the sterile feel, but the overwhelming smell of alcohol and apple juice screamed hospital. Still, it was homey because her family was around her.

Since marrying Gabe approximately four hours after he’d proposed, they’d begun building their life together. Absently, Betts twirled the class ring-turned-wedding band around her finger. It had been sized down to fit her, but there was room to move around. Marriage was kind of like that—it fit, but there was room for her to be her own person.

“The miracle of motherhood was so much more miraculous when they knocked you out and handed you a nice, clean baby after you woke up.” Mama Cherie still looked a little green around the gills after watching the birth. She’d insisted on it, but regret was stamped all over her nauseated face. “Natural childbirth only belongs in places where good drugs are hard to find.”

She stuck her hand into the sequin-lined neck of her tee shirt and pulled an iPhone out of her cleavage. Stepping back, she snapped a thousand pictures. “I hope these come out, because I’m planning on leaking them to the press. The going bid is two hundred thou for the first picture of Betts Monroe-Swanson’s newborn.”

Charlie and Lucky had each held a hand and coached her through the weariness and made her push. Just like the first time, they’d been here for her. After Gabe had cut the cord and Betts had held her new baby, Mama snatched the baby out of her arms and cuddled her close. Lucky and Charlie had played rock-paper-scissors to determine who got to hold the baby first. Now, they were buying all of the pink stuffed animals in a tri-state area.

After seventeen hours of labor, Betts was bone tired but not the least bit sleepy. Gabe had been the most wonderful birthing coach a woman could ask for. He’d massaged her back, breathed with her, cut the cord, and then fallen asleep on the sofa. Where he still snoozed away.

“You’re all heart.” Betts held the baby up so Mama could get a better shot.

“I know. That’s why I’m so large-chested—on account of God needing a place to house my huge heart.”

“That’s odd, I thought it was where your favorite plastic surgeon stashed lots of silicon.” Betts traced the brow line of her perfect daughter. “Tom wasn’t this small. I remember him being bigger.” She unwrapped the pink blanket swirled around her daughter and marveled at the perfect body. “Look at these tiny little fingers with itty-bitty nails. She’s amazing.”

“Too bad Kaitlin’s pregnancy was nothing but a scare. I was in the process of bedazzling a tee shirt with “World’s Sexiest Great-Grandma” when Tom called to say that Kaitlin wasn’t in the family way.” She shook her head. “Damn shame. It’s not everyone who has a great grandchild older than their grandchild.”

Betts rolled her eyes. It had been nine months, and Mama still wasn’t over it. She seemed to be the only person who wasn’t glad that Kaitlin had gotten her period. Betts smiled to herself. She’d asked both Kaitlin and Tom to be in the room during the delivery. Both had made it until things got ugly. Watching childbirth was the best birth control.

“It’s my turn to hold her.” Mama tucked her phone into her cleavage and slipped her hands under the baby, careful to support her head.

Betts immediately missed the barely-there weight.

Mama cuddled the baby in close. “She has my eyes. What are you going to name her?” She peered closer. “She looks like a Cherie.” Mama shrugged. “Just sayin’.”

“Gabe and I haven’t decided on a name.” Betts sighed. They’d been through every name they could think of, and nothing seemed to fit this truly perfect bundle of joy. Wait. Truly. Betts glanced at her daughter. Truly perfect.