grateful the misfits of this little town were. And how often they surprised the shit out him.
Chery was a test, though. In the past, Beckett would have just killed her boyfriend—or at the very least broken enough bones in the man’s body to make him see God. But this new Beckett, this guy he was trying his damnedest to be, was all about letting people make their choices, find their way. Trusting them a little.
And it was because he didn’t kill the boyfriend that Beckett learned about Vere. Chery was the only provider for her older sister, who had autism. In a few quiet moments when he listened, he heard about how Vere was Chery’s only family. They were fiercely devoted to each other. Their mother, who had seen to it that Vere had all she needed, passed from cancer years ago. Chery had come home from college and vowed to keep Vere’s schedule as close to the same as possible. Vere participated in a program four days a week, doing jobs in the community with the help of an amazing staff. There were also the horseback riding lessons Vere loved. An old horse had made a connection with her, a lady who lived inside her head so much. Chery teared up when she described Vere’s rare shows of emotion around the damn horse. The therapist wasn’t cheap either, and their mother’s medical plan had expired with her life.
Chery’s boyfriend was also her landlord. They never got very far into discussing her relationship with him, but Beckett had an inkling Chery put up with the man at least partly to keep things stable for Vere.
Slowly, quietly, Beckett had been able to go behind the scenes and donate things to help Vere. The horseback riding lessons were now free: the farm’s owner loved getting a brand new John Deere tractor in exchange. The program that took Vere for her job in town had received stunning donations. They were now able to take their participants on even grander adventures. And the final piece had been when Beckett was able to get Chery a medical plan. She contributed a pittance from her paycheck, and Beckett supplied her with insurance that would take care of her and her sister for their entire lifetimes.
And on the days when Chery came in all excited about a new development with Vere, it was all worth it. Helping her had been a rush. Maybe adopting Gandhi had been the starting point, but there had been a kindness avalanche since then.
It was work though. He wanted to kick the shit out of Chery’s landlord/boyfriend/asshole so damn much. And he wasn’t ruling that out. The man had stopped in to buy alcohol once. Chery had disappeared instantly into the back of the store, and Beckett had stood at the cash register with his arms folded. The guy’s name was Jared. Normal-looking fucker. He tried to offer money, but Beckett wouldn’t take it. He looked at the man without his nice-guy filter, and it took only his stare. He’d squinted into the bastard’s soul. Jared had immediately dropped the money and the whiskey and left.
Beckett twirled a box cutter in his hand, trying to put some thought into his decisions. Working with the type of people he now sought out, he knew he couldn’t fix everybody’s everything. And a lot of damn times ladies who took a beating would side with their men, no matter what. If that happened he’d lose his connection to Chery.
It was tough. He prayed sometimes. To Mouse. Which probably made Bibles spontaneously combust, but whatever. He asked for patience and clarity, and damn it if once in a while he didn’t feel like he was getting a shot of just that.
He looked over the bottles and cans he’d unpacked. There was a chick on the side of a particular six-pack of beer who looked like Eve. Stupid. He ordered the damn stuff religiously even though the beer never sold and tasted like shit. He was thinking about her again out of fucking nowhere. That’s always how it was. He’d be doing something boring and normal, and then it would be her. The way her damn blue eyes would
Chery was a test, though. In the past, Beckett would have just killed her boyfriend—or at the very least broken enough bones in the man’s body to make him see God. But this new Beckett, this guy he was trying his damnedest to be, was all about letting people make their choices, find their way. Trusting them a little.
And it was because he didn’t kill the boyfriend that Beckett learned about Vere. Chery was the only provider for her older sister, who had autism. In a few quiet moments when he listened, he heard about how Vere was Chery’s only family. They were fiercely devoted to each other. Their mother, who had seen to it that Vere had all she needed, passed from cancer years ago. Chery had come home from college and vowed to keep Vere’s schedule as close to the same as possible. Vere participated in a program four days a week, doing jobs in the community with the help of an amazing staff. There were also the horseback riding lessons Vere loved. An old horse had made a connection with her, a lady who lived inside her head so much. Chery teared up when she described Vere’s rare shows of emotion around the damn horse. The therapist wasn’t cheap either, and their mother’s medical plan had expired with her life.
Chery’s boyfriend was also her landlord. They never got very far into discussing her relationship with him, but Beckett had an inkling Chery put up with the man at least partly to keep things stable for Vere.
Slowly, quietly, Beckett had been able to go behind the scenes and donate things to help Vere. The horseback riding lessons were now free: the farm’s owner loved getting a brand new John Deere tractor in exchange. The program that took Vere for her job in town had received stunning donations. They were now able to take their participants on even grander adventures. And the final piece had been when Beckett was able to get Chery a medical plan. She contributed a pittance from her paycheck, and Beckett supplied her with insurance that would take care of her and her sister for their entire lifetimes.
And on the days when Chery came in all excited about a new development with Vere, it was all worth it. Helping her had been a rush. Maybe adopting Gandhi had been the starting point, but there had been a kindness avalanche since then.
It was work though. He wanted to kick the shit out of Chery’s landlord/boyfriend/asshole so damn much. And he wasn’t ruling that out. The man had stopped in to buy alcohol once. Chery had disappeared instantly into the back of the store, and Beckett had stood at the cash register with his arms folded. The guy’s name was Jared. Normal-looking fucker. He tried to offer money, but Beckett wouldn’t take it. He looked at the man without his nice-guy filter, and it took only his stare. He’d squinted into the bastard’s soul. Jared had immediately dropped the money and the whiskey and left.
Beckett twirled a box cutter in his hand, trying to put some thought into his decisions. Working with the type of people he now sought out, he knew he couldn’t fix everybody’s everything. And a lot of damn times ladies who took a beating would side with their men, no matter what. If that happened he’d lose his connection to Chery.
It was tough. He prayed sometimes. To Mouse. Which probably made Bibles spontaneously combust, but whatever. He asked for patience and clarity, and damn it if once in a while he didn’t feel like he was getting a shot of just that.
He looked over the bottles and cans he’d unpacked. There was a chick on the side of a particular six-pack of beer who looked like Eve. Stupid. He ordered the damn stuff religiously even though the beer never sold and tasted like shit. He was thinking about her again out of fucking nowhere. That’s always how it was. He’d be doing something boring and normal, and then it would be her. The way her damn blue eyes would
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