Beck Ledford

Consistently evaluating his choices would’ve been far too difficult. Gale preferred to just take every moment as it was; his life had already been sheltered for far too long for him to play it safe everywhere he went. It’s partly the reason why he drank until his liver expressed how much it hated him, truly wondering how much his heart could take, but even now, as he felt hands hauling him towards the door of the bar, well, he knew he’d pushed everyone a bit far that night. 

The cold night air hit him like a freight train, as did the cement he found himself on just seconds later. The bouncers gave him a look that said ‘don’t come back’, and Gale had to take a deep breath to regain his bearings before he pulled himself to his feet. He glanced at the person who he’d landed in front of, managing a half smile as he cleared his throat, “Ain’t really been my night. You got a cigarette? Or how about enough courage to walk back in there and get my phone I dropped on my very graceful way out?”

Beck was passing by the bar when he saw someone tossed out onto the street and land at his feet. There was the smell of alcohol in the air, but Beck wasn’t sure if it came from the man or someone else who was hanging around outside the bar. Offering out his hand for the other man to take, he said “You okay?” Then he shook his head. “Sorry, I don’t smoke. But I suppose I could take a look for your phone.” Hopefully it would only take a minute. “What does it look like?”

“No shit?“ Southby looked impressed by this. “You like it?“ Southby asked, genuinely curious. He wasn’t much of a gambler himself, but he’d been sent to the casino more than a handful of times to collect someone for one reason or another. “You might be the one guy in this town who deals with more drunks than I do.“

“It pays the bills” Beck said with a shrug. He’d hardly consider working in the casino his dream job, but he could also think of worse ways to make a living. Then he chuckled. “I’ve met my fair share who I’ve wanted to push overboard into river” he admitted. “The good thing about drunks is they tend to take more foolish risks.” Which was good for the casino. Which was good for him, since it meant he kept getting a paycheck.

Beck. “Sorry.” She replied, in turn. Shook her head. “I know, I know…” Bailey didn’t expect it to be romantic and poetic every minute of every day. She knew there were ups and downs and wanted it all, anyway. She was realistic. So realistic that she knew it would be an impossible feat for her to ever experience such a thing. “I want the good and the bad.” Bailey mumbled. It was no use. Beck said love was worth it, but Bailey wasn’t. Didn’t he know that? Didn’t he get that? “Nope.” Bailey said, popping her tongue. She needed another drink. “Isn’t it obvious?” She gestured to her poor posture, leaning over the bar, and the tears drying on her cheeks. 

She perked up, just a smidge, when he said it was complicated. “Can you tell me? It’ll be a nice distraction from my own crap.” 

“There’s someone out there for you” Beck said, trying to be encouraging. Beck didn’t exactly believe in soulmates. He believed there were a lot of right people out there for everyone. It was just a question of finding one of them. “You just have to put yourself out there until you find the right person for you.” Which was easy for him to say. He’d fallen in love purely by fate, not by actively looking for someone. He grabbed a napkin off the bar and handed it to her to dry her tears.

He sighed. “We were so happy back in Oklahoma” he said. “We even decided we wanted to adopt.” They’d been going through the interview process when his mom had been diagnosed with cancer. “Now we’re both trying to adjust to living in a new place and not seeing each other very often.” Beck was spending more time taking care of his mother and helping his father than he was with his husband.

Where: Lake End Park When: Late Afternoon

“That’s good! Nice throw kiddo,” Eddie clapped giving a slight whistle. “Now the next one make sure y’all hit it right in that center strike zone,” he called out from the sidelines, elbows rest on the metal bar from the barely enclosed dugout. When he wasn’t actively on duty Eddie McBride could be found either in the garden, or out on the field with the Little League team. It was a taste of what he’d lost. The only way he could actively participate in the game that was supposed to be his life, his dream. There was also something about giving back to the community. A paid penance for that fateful night. As if telling Morgan City he was sorry he hadn’t averted the crisis. That he’d been complicit. Plus, the kids were damn funny. Jogging up with a slight limp from the dugout he nodded to the next kid who took up the plate. “Right, remember what we talked about, Henry can’t see the ball a’comin’ if y’all close your eyes,” it was the most basic of basics but he didn’t coach the team to make ‘em winners. They were a struggle every step of the way. Henry nodded taking a stance swinging the bat as hard as his little arms could, and, as predicted closed his eyes once more. This time, though, the ball made contact with the bat and fouled off something fierce. “Woaaah,” a collective group of little leaguers shouted. It was then the Lieutenant noticed the ball heading, almost as if in slow motion, towards an innocent bystander, “Hey, HEY! Heads up!” He called out wincing as he tried his best to run over before the ball made contact, “Shit, I am…I am so so sorry, look um you alright?”

Beck had been dragged to the park by a family friend whose kid was practicing with his Little League team. Watching a bunch of kids hit a ball around for a couple hours didn’t seem like the most exciting way to spend the afternoon, but it definitely seemed normal. And if there was one thing Beck needed right now, it was a sense of normalcy. Besides, if the adoption he and his husband were attempting ever wen through, they’d have a kid of their own. And that kid just might want to play baseball. It had been a long time since Beck had played himself. He’d been a good, but not great player. Still, when he saw a ball flying towards his head, his instincts took over. He reached up and managed to catch the ball before it hit him in the face. With a chuckle, he said “No harm done. But I’d keep my eye on that kid. If he ever learns to aim correctly, he’ll be even more dangerous than he is now.” Beck moved to toss the ball back to the other man. “So, do your kids always try to take out the fans, or should I feel special?”

“I wouldn’t.“ Southby said matter-of-factly, tucking his thumbs through his belt as he shifted onto his toes. A look of confusion crossed his face as he tried to decide if this guy was being sarcastic or if… well he couldn’t really judge. He was about to turn thirty-nine & he still lived with his mother. “You work around here?”

Beck laughed at the look of confusion on the other man’s face. Apparently he should start wearing a sign with a disclaimer that he tended to exaggerate. Then he nodded. “I work on the Amelia Belle as a card dealer.” That was the simplest way of explaining his job. He tended to do a little bit of everything at the casino, from dealing cards to serving drinks to tipping off the security guards if it looked like someone was counting the deck. “I grew up in the area but just moved back.”

“Cheap or lazy.“ Southby repeated, smiling at the concrete as the stranger gave the other one a helpful, albeit sharp, hint. Still chuckling as the man crawled back into his Explorer, Southby shrugged. “I like to think of it as my kind of special trademark. – See, most people would probably just write you a ticket, and while that stings, I don’t think it’s quite enough. There’s an element of belittling that needs to occur before you feel it in your wallet.”

Beck nodded. “I suppose public shaming can be useful when used properly.” People tended to worry a lot about what their neighbors thought of them - especially in a place like Morgan City. It was smaller than most cities, which meant people were more aware of each other’s actions. “Remind me never to park illegally around here. My parents could never handle the shame if they found out about it.”

Oh. She knew that face. She hadn’t seen him in a long while. Since high school graduation, probably. They’d grown up in the same grade, friendly but not exactly friends. Not Bailey’s super-romanticized, idealistic version of a friend, anyway. “Beckett Ledford.” She greeted, matching his tone. She refused to lift her head up from the bar. The way he described love sounded like soulmates, but she supposed they must’ve went hand-in-hand. “Jeez, you don’t need to rub it in.” It was her own fault for asking in the first place. Seemed like everybody was in love, these days. Except for her. And while the description sent her further into a depressive slump, she was still curious. Wanted to know more. It’s why books and movies and media were so appealing to her, because they provided her with insight into unknown and unattainable experiences. 

Bailey leaned up on her elbows, swiveling her chair in Beck’s direction to ask even more of him. “Are you happy?”

Beck chuckled. “Please, call me Beck” he insisted. Only his parents called him Beckett. And only when they were being their most serious. Then he shook his head. “Sorry” he said. “If it makes you feel any better, its not all rom-com situations all day everyday.” Especially not now. Beck’s marriage should have been his number one priority in life. It used to be. But ever since his mom got sick, his marriage had fallen below caring for her and helping his father on his list of priorities. “I mean, its worth it” he added quickly. “But its definitely more work than you would think from the lies movies and books try to sell us.” Love was the greatest emotion he’d ever experienced, and was worth all the work. “Don’t tell me you’ve never been in love?” he asked her. Surely she had found somebody in the years he’d been out of town? With a shrug, he said “That’s a loaded question. A few months ago I would have said I couldn’t be any happier. Now, the answer is more complicated.” He took a swig of his drink.

“Now, you don’t look like the smartest individual I’ve ever seen, but I don’t think you’re blind either on account of the lack of a dog, or cane, or sunglasses, or some other such paraphernalia, so I know you can see that that curb is clearly red.”

Beck had been passing by when he heard the exchange. “There’s a parking garage a block over that way” he suggested to the person who’d parked their car illegally. “Don’t be cheap or lazy.” Then he turned his attention to the other man. “So do you always call people out in such creative ways, or is this a special occasion?” Most people would have just minded their own business and kept walking when they saw a car parked illegally.

Already having moved most of the boxes inside, Isabel had saved herself from having to carry the heavy weights so far, mostly just bothering with the light boxes or those that only required throwing her back into it, but some things required two people. Like tables, even the couch and other appliances she would need. She wasn’t sure about the weather, hadn’t checked the app on her phone yet, but if it was going to rain she would have to hurry up. 

Seeing the first person coming her way, she put up a smile, sliding into their path to get their attention. “Good day.” She spoke, her Cuban accent thick laced into her voice. She hadn’t yet gotten to know the temperament of the people in this city, but so far more than a handful of people had said hi when passing by, which said something of its own. 

“Would you mind helping me out carrying this inside? I’m afraid the boys from the moving company didn’t check their schedule and they had to rush to the next location already. I’m afraid I just simply can’t carry this all by myself.” She asked, pointing behind her at the remaining large furniture that she was desperate to get inside. “I’ll buy you food or drinks as a thank you, what do you think?” 

Beck raised his eyebrows in surprise. “They just left your stuff here?” he said in surprise. “That sounds like they don’t want a top rating on Yelp.” He sighed, then said “Sure. Why kind of man would I be if I left you to move all this by yourself?” One his parents would not be proud of, that was for sure. Besides, he just gotten through his own move recently, and had been grateful for all the help from his family and friends. “And thanks. I will definitely take you up on that offer.” He glanced around at the furniture that was still outside. “Should we start with the couch?” he suggested. In his experience, that was probably the heaviest and hardest to maneuver. Which meant they should do it now, before losing energy over the smaller items.

She didn’t drink much. It wasn’t the physical aftereffects of alcohol she was usually worried about —not the splitting headache, or the nausea, or the exhaustion. Her hangovers were more often than not emotional episodes that lasted days. Sometimes longer than a week. It wasn’t good with the meds. It wasn’t a good mix. Alcohol wasn’t a good mix for Bailey. Short term, maybe, but she’d learned in her sessions that short term pleasure usually resulted in long term pain. That was a nice therapeutic way to phrase it. Patty’d be proud. For that one fleeting thought, at least. Tonight she’d succumbed to an urge to drink, to push down the depression with a couple rounds of cider. 

Mama G’s was packed, even for a Friday night. Bailey still sat at the bar alone. The TV hanging off the bar was playing through Love Actually. Merry Christmas, huh? Andrew Lincoln, quiet and sifting through cardboard signs, with Silent Night hardly audible over the sound of Bailey’s surroundings. “To me, you are perfect.” The sign read onscreen. Fuck Keira Knightley. Bailey wasn’t sure when she started crying, but she could taste salt on her tongue. No vodka, so no chaser. Just tears. “What’s that even like?” Bailey said, leaning to rest her entire chest on the bar top. She pointed at the television screen with a finger. “What does love even feel like?” Her words were slurred, her head was heavy. Swimming. She felt warm from all the cider.

Beck had stopped into the bar for a drink with an old friend. Unfortunately, something came up and his friend texted him to cancel at the last minute. But Beck figured since he was already there, he might as well have a beer. It would help with the stress he was feeling right now, between caring for his mother and the strain his love life was taking under it. So when he spotted a familiar face crying at the bar, he did a double take. “Bailey Chambers?” he said in surprise, more at the fact she was crying than anything else. He hadn’t run into the woman in his time back in town, but she was recognizable. Older looking than she was in high school, of course, but not radically different looking. Listening to her for a moment, he said “Love is the best thing I’ve ever experience. Its finding the person who completes the other half of you.” He shrugged. “At least, that’s how it was for me.” He knew that sounded cheesy, but Beck tended to be cheesy when it came to his love life. “Because even when the person you love it driving you crazy, you know you’d do anything for them.”

“You want hot chocolate, right?”

“Yes, please. And– can I– possibly get a blueberry muffin?”

“Of course, honey. Go get us some seats and I’ll get us the drinks and the muffin,” Ren said with a smile towards Lily, noticing the carefulness in her voice as she asked for the muffin. The social worker told her that she didn’t have good homes before, so Ren shouldn’t be surprised at something like this happening, but once again Ren’s heart sunk a bit. Lily’s been with her for only a few days and she could tell that she was a sweet kid and Ren hoped that she could be a good fit for her.

They were in the Sweet & Simple Coffee & Sweet Shop and Ren headed to the counter to get a hot chocolate and blueberry muffin for Lily and a latte for herself. She ordered, she paid and then she stepped aside to wait for everything she ordered, only when it arrived and the person behind the counter handed her two cups that had nothing she ordered, she frowned. “Umm… excuse me, I don’t think–” She looked around to see if anyone else was waiting. “Sorry, this wasn’t my order, are you waiting for something? Would this be what you ordered?”

Beck had stopped in the shop on the way home from work to order two coffees as a surprise for his husband. While he was there, he figured he’d get a few bagels as well. Only to end up being handed two different drinks and a blueberry muffin. So when he saw what looked exactly like his order being handed to another customer, he shook his head. “Yes, thank you” he said. “I guess they’re really busy today and lost track of who ordered what.” Beck knew that everyone was under the stress of the holiday season. He pointed to the cups she was holding, that had his name printed on them. “At least they spelled my name right this time” he said. “I take it these belong to you, then.” He held out the tray with a latte and a hot chocolate in one hand, his other holding out a blueberry muffin.