Never Expected Love Read online

  What the hell kind of mother does he have? "Okay, as long as you're honest with her if she asks."

  "Yes, Sir."

  He proceeds to tell me about the things he has been doing with computers in school. I like him; he's a good kid and very humble. I take him to the room where I do my work and show him what exactly I do. His face lights up as I show him.

  "So if you get this job what are you going to do with the money?"

  "That's easy, I'm going to save for college and join a gym."

  "Really, do you have a car?"

  "No, Sir."

  "Wouldn't that be your first purchase?"

  "No, Sir, I will be joining a gym, probably the Krav Maga gym down the road and then put the rest of it away for college. I will also have to save for an apartment too. Once I graduate I will be moving out of my mother's house."

  "That's an awfully big step, don't you think?"

  "No, Sir, it doesn't have to be fancy, I just need a place that I can fix my meals and sleep, and if I have to, I will get a second job."

  "That doesn't leave you too much time for girls, Beckett."

  "There is only one girl that I want in my life, but she is still up in Seattle. She's my best friend, and one day I'll find her again."

  I look down and see him rubbing a medallion that is connected to a leather bracelet. I decide not to say anything for right now.

  "So you are able to put one hundred percent into this job?"

  "Yes, Sir, with the exception of my school work, that has to come first if I want to get into college and get some scholarships."

  "Good, good answer. School should always be more important than your job."

  "So has anyone else talked about their interview with me?"

  "Yes, Sir."

  "What was said?"

  "Each of them said that I may as well not try because they were getting the job and not me."

  "I see, but you came anyway."

  "Yes, Sir. I felt that if you had already planned to hire one of them, you wouldn't have set an interview up with me. This means that you still haven't decided who you were going to hire."

  "Well, actually I have, Beckett."

  "Oh," he says in a dejected voice, and his face drops to the floor.

  "So, Beckett, when can you start?"

  His eyes look up at me in surprise. "Really? I got the job. Oh my God! Thank you, Sir! I can start whenever you want me to." He's almost bouncing off his chair.

  "Why don't you come over here tomorrow after school?"

  "Okay! I can't believe it, I am so excited. Thank you again, Sir." He stuck his hand out to me to shake it.

  "Beckett?"

  "Yes, Sir." He stops and looks at me as if I am going to take my offer away.

  "Do you want to keep this job?"

  "Yes Sir, of course, Sir."

  "Then stop calling me sir, my name is Richard."

  "Yes Sir, I mean, Richard."

  A month passes and Beckett is doing amazing. He is starting to come out of his shell and talks a little more. As he walks through the door today he has a bruise on his face, it looks like a handprint.

  "Beckett, what happened to your face?"

  "Oh, I uh, I ran into something."

  Yeah, it looks like he ran into someone's hand. I don't contradict him, I know over time he will tell me what's going on. He has to learn to trust me first.

  As Beckett said, he joined a gym and talked me into joining too. Beckett seems to be a natural at it. He met a young Marine not too long after he joined and later introduced me to him. Toby Mitchell took Beckett under his wing. Beckett has been bullied at school and that was one of the main reasons he joined the gym, to protect himself. Although I know that's not what happened to his face a while back.

  Toby has worked with Beckett for the last six months or so and it is amazing how his self-confidence started to show as his expertise increased, he's finally starting to believe in himself. Toby will be leaving for Afghanistan in the next couple of weeks, and I know that Beckett is worried about him. In fact, we have only known Toby by his last name, but if he doesn't make it back, he wants us to know whom he is. He didn't have any family and grew up in the foster system. I know we will both miss him.

  Beckett moved out of his mom's home the day he graduated from high school. I was more than happy to co-sign for him since this is his first place. I thought about letting him move into one of the rooms in my house, but he needs to make it on his own. I knew he didn't want to be enabled.

  That summer Beckett finally started to grow in height. He had to have grown almost a foot in a year’s time. I think if he stood still for any length of time, you probably could see him grow. He's now taller than I am, standing six foot three inches and he has started bulking up. I think if the kids from school ran into him they wouldn't even attempt to pick on him now. I have to say that Krav Maga has built his self-esteem and confidence.

  Before long, Beckett is so involved with the company he was thinking about not finishing college. When he mentioned it to me, I was furious. "Beckett, if you think you're going to keep this job and not go to college, you better think again. The day you quit school, is the day I fire you," I say sternly.

  "But, Richard, I can devote more time to the company if I didn't have to go to classes all the time, you've taught me all I need to know," Beckett tries to explain.

  "I don't hire quitters, and I'll not let this company turn you into a quitter either," I say in a brusque voice. I have taken Beckett under my wing and taught him everything I know, things my father taught me. About how to be an honest man and what their responsibilities are, and of course about the business from accounting to building software.

  I never had a social life, hell I never dated or went out. I don't know why, maybe because I was working and wanted to establish myself. Then when my parents died, I started the company and working on growing it. I never made time for women, not that I didn't want one, I just felt there were other things more important. I figured I would maybe use one of those dating sites when I was ready to date. It's not as if I haven't been with a woman before. Well in high school, I was a terror and put my parents through hell. Partying, drinking, sex, I ran the gambit, but one day I came home early and found my mother crying. I put an end to it all. She thought it was her fault that I was partying. She didn't understand I was just trying to find my independence, to find out whom I was. From then on, I devoted myself to my schooling and work.

  One day Beckett asked me about my family, he knew my parents had died in a plane crash but didn't know the full story. "Richard, do you mind me asking you about your parents and what happened?"

  I look up at Beckett, the question took me by surprise, I don't know why. I knew he would eventually ask me, so I gather my thoughts before I began. After some time, I start in a low, quiet voice. "I was supposed to be with my parents that day, but my boss had asked me to do a special project that was a rush for a big client. I was going to meet my parents in a week or so. They were my only family, actually they were more than that, they were my best friends and when they died, not only did I lose all my family, I lost my friends too." I shake my head trying to erase the memories. "I had no one to talk to, I was left alone. I didn't know how to cope, I had never lost anyone before. I was distraught after their death, and every day I would come home to the house I grew up in, full of memories, full of them. We were such a tight-knit family, we did everything together.

  “I remember the night before they left. I walked through the front door of my parents’ home, this home. The aroma wafting through the house was amazing, making my mouth water as soon as it hit my senses. Even now, I can still smell it. I smell fried chicken and cinnamon apples. Mom had made my favorite dinner before they left.

  “I think of mom as Betty Crocker and Harriet Nelson rolled into one. She was always in the kitchen cooking something, and the house was always immaculate. How she did it, I don't know because she was always helping others in need too.
/>   “Like that night, she had cooked a wonderful meal that would feed me for the next week.

  “I was never a drinker, but that first night I found myself at a little bar down the road from our house. I plunged into a deep depression and found myself at the bottom of a bottle of whiskey day after day, thinking it was helping me cope, but after I sobered up the pain was still there so I drank more. My boss approached me about my drinking and told me that I needed to get cleaned up maybe get into a rehab program. I went off on him, told him to fuck off. I blamed him for not letting me go with them so I could have died with them. They had me escorted out of the building. I had entirely lost it." I was holding my head in my hands, and then I looked up at Beckett.

  "Was it the loss of your job that brought you out of it?" he asks.

  "No, it was a postcard that I had received after their death that knocked me back to my senses. As I had said before my parents were the best, so when I had received a postcard from them a month after they had died it really hit me hard." I told him what it said.

  "Wow, Richard, I am so sorry for your loss."

  "After I received the postcard I took a real good look at my life. I never figured out why it took so long to get the postcard, but it came at the right time. My parents always told me how much they loved me and how proud they were of me, but when I received that card and looked at the way my life was heading at that point I knew they wouldn't be proud. So, I stopped feeling sorry for myself and started to look forward. I needed to get in front of my past. It was hard, fucking hard, but I knew if I just took one step at a time, one day at a time, and set small goals, I would make it."

  "I received a call from my parents’ lawyer. My parents had a life insurance policy so I decided that I would start my own business. It made sense, I'd been working in the tech field making money for someone else, why not me? I asked myself."

  "So here we are and as you know, we have grown so large that we need to get a larger office space."

  "Now it's your turn, tell me what your home life was really like."

  "God, Richard, I don't know that you want to hear this shit, I know I try to forget it every chance I get."

  "Beckett, I knew something was going on, I even went to the school about it. They said they had questioned you too, and you told them the same thing as you told me. So spill."

  "Mom was a single mother, trying to make a living in a man’s' world, she worked in sales and was very good, one of the top salespeople they had. She was always winning awards and had the top sales for years. From a very early age, I taught myself to take care of me. She put me in private kindergarten so I could start first grade at age four. My birthday, being in December and I was smart, the school didn't hesitate, but I was also very small. We lived in West Seattle, and in first grade I met Harlow."

  I watch as his face beams and a smile stretches across his face and his eyes sparkle just saying Harlow's name.

  "I think I fell in love with her the first day I met her. She lived next door, but because my mother never let me play outside I hadn't ever met her."

  "Why wouldn't she let you play outside?"

  "She didn't want me to get dirty. Anyway, after my first day of school, she came over to my house and invited me over for dinner, but my mother wasn't home and wouldn't be home until the middle of the night some time."

  "You were home by yourself at the age of four?"

  "Yes, I told Harlow my mother wasn't home and that I couldn't go outside, she was appalled."

  "What about dinner?"

  "I always ate cold cereal for dinner."

  "Unbelievable." I just shake my head at the audacity of it all.

  "I remember being so excited about the books I brought home from the library. It gave me something to do while I was in bed. The next day Harlow and I sat together on the bus. The bigger kids started to bully me. God, you should have seen Harlow, if anyone tried to hurt me, she would beat their ass." He laughs at the memory. "She was full of piss and vinegar."

  "As I got older, Harlow and I were inseparable. We would spend every waking minute together. I would go over to her house after school, we would do our homework, Harlow's mom would fix dinner, and I would eat over there. When I was thirteen, my mother told me she was getting married and we were moving. I was devastated. Harlow gave me this bracelet and she has the other half."

  He sits there rubbing it. I see him do that a lot when he is in deep thought.

  "We made promises that we would stay in touch, but that didn't last long. Mom and Phillip still went out all the time, but when they decided to stay at home for a home cooked meal, I was always expected to join them. I don't know why, it wasn't like they liked me or said anything nice to me. It was never a good thing, all my mom would do is yell and belittle me, degrade me and call me names. That was never truer than one day about a month after the move."

  "That evening, my mom had planned a nice sit-down meal, as we sat around the dining room table. My mom was in rare form that evening. I don't know how many drinks she had while cooking dinner, but her glass was never empty."

  "After my mother and Phillip had stacked their plates high with food, I took a spoonful of each dish that was offered and that's when it all started." 'Stop being such a hog! You pig! Why are you taking so much food, are you trying to make us poor by eating us out of house and home?' my mother said. I looked down at my plate then at theirs, I thought that maybe she wasn't talking to me, but who else would she be talking to like that. 'I thought fagots didn't like to eat, after all that's what you are, you don't even have a girlfriend. All you do is sit in your room reading or playing on the damn computer. Are you playing with yourself too, watching porn? And what's with you wearing jewelry, are you gay? You little gay boy, playing with your little dick.' I just sat there with my head held low. I tried to block her out, but there was no way to block the cruel names she was flinging at me. I don't know what I had done for her to hate me so much, for her to sling such vile names at me. 'I can't believe you're crying like a little sissy baby because we moved, men don't cry, only pathetic little weenies cry, what an imbecile! It's not as if we moved to a different country. You are so stupid. It's time for you to grow up!' she said."

  "I admit it, I had a hard time with the move. I missed Harlow. The insults went on and on for over a half an hour. All I could do is sit there and take it. I'd seen and felt how violent she could be. It was just easier sometimes to take it than it was to be hit, kicked, or slapped. Finally after her ranting wouldn't stop, Phillip, for once in his life, stood up for me, 'Okay, Cheryl, that's enough, you're just being mean and cruel, leave the kid alone, we've only been here a month, give him some time to adjust, I can't even enjoy my meal,' he said."

  "'Don't you goddamn tell me how to raise my fucking kid!' she yelled back at him.’He's my fucking kid, and I'll talk to him any Goddamn way I want to.' She picked up the crystal butter dish that was sitting beside her plate and hurled it at Phillip. He ducked just in time for it to hit the wall, the crystal dish shattered into tiny bits raining glass shards everywhere as the soft butter globbed on the wall and slowly plopped onto the floor. That's when all hell broke loose, she was really pissed then, she picked up anything around her throwing it at Phillip, but nothing ever hit him, maybe a little food, but he had quick reflexes. There were china shards, silverware and food spewed everywhere. The walls looked like one of those contemporary paintings where the artist stood back and threw paint on a canvas. It was a kaleidoscope of colors and textures. Phillip just shook his head, brushed off some of the food that had splattered on him with his napkin, turned and walked to the bedroom. After grabbing a suitcase, he packed his things, and he walked out, never to be seen again. That's when she really crossed over the crazy bitch line, now everything was flying, more food, glasses, and dishes flew through the air. I tried to leave but was backhanded for leaving my plate, the only plate not broken, on the table, which she proceeded to grab and throw it at me. By the time the food had settled, the roo
m had looked like a garbage dump, and we had lost half of the china and crystal. There was even a fork stuck in the wall. Thank God, I wasn't in the line of fire for that.

  "According to my mother, this was all my fault and since it was my fault that the fight broke out, it was my responsibility to clean up the mess and I had to work to pay for the dishes that were broken. My mom went to her room crying, blaming me for Phillip leaving.

  "I lost touch with Harlow girl that one fateful night. My mother grounded me and took my phone from. In a fit of rage, she threw it at the wall but it smashed against the mirror, shattering the glass and phone. All of Harlow's information was gone. I stood there stunned, all my hopes and dreams smashed against the wall.

  "The next day when I returned home from school, everything in my room was gone. My computer that I had built, my TV, books, and pictures, the only items that remained were my clothes for school. It was worse than the move from West Seattle, I knew now I wouldn't be able to see or talk to Harlow for a long time, if ever. I didn't even know her address to write her a letter.” He looks down at my bracelet rubbing the medallion and sighs. “She's probably thinks that I forgot about her and the promises we made to each other."

  Beckett graduated from college with a double major in computer science and business. I was there for him as his only family. I congratulated him and told him how proud I was of him. Then he says, "Harlow's father was the only other person to ever tell me that he was proud of me." I could tell he was fighting his memories and the tears from falling as he grabs me by the shoulders and pulls me tight to his chest for a big hug. After all this time, I look at Beckett as if he is my son, but also my best friend. I've tried to give him the love and respect he so desperately needs. I'm sure that he never received even a hug from his mother. "I love you, Richard, you're the father I never had. Thank you for always being there for me."

  God, now I'm fighting the tears. "I love you too, Beckett, if I had ever had a son, I could only wish he was like you. You're a good man Beckett." I take him into another hug and then pull away slapping him on the shoulder, both our eyes glimmered with unshed tears.