In An Instant, Chapter 12

New to the story? Start here!

(Note to longtime readers: I made a mistake last week and instead of hitting “schedule” on Wednesday when I finished crafting the post, I hit “send.” Rather than send another apology email, I figured I would apologize when the next installment came out on schedule. I apologize! Mea culpa. )

Chapter 12. Jeux

Sunday morning, Beth woke in a blind panic. What was she thinking, inviting herself over to meet Dean’s mother? Dean was a dream come true—quite literally—but she was supposed to be looking for a way out of Iowa, not tying more strings to keep her here. Dean had a mother with dementia; he couldn’t leave, and this new restlessness in her heart told her she couldn’t stay.

She clutched her pillow against her stomach. She couldn’t do it. Couldn’t meet his mom, couldn’t take that next step. What if she was wrong about him? What if she was setting him up on a pedestal just because she’d spent all of high school watching him from afar?

“O-pee, o-pee, o-pee!”

The sound of Toby’s first song of the day arrested her downward spiral. Beth dropped abruptly out of the whirling vortex of irrational panic, settling back into reality with a shaky chuckle. She never knew what was going to come out of Toby’s mouth when he woke. Just that it would be musical and adorable.

The rhythm of ordinary life, getting Toby dressed and fed, settled her nerves. By the time Dean came up after church to suggest taking Toby to the park before nap, she was calm enough to agree.

There was no getting rid of Mom, once she found out about the plan. Beth was sure her mom hadn’t been part of Dean’s vision, but he pivoted gracefully. And Mom’s presence put a buffer between her and Dean. After the panic of the last twenty-four hours, that seemed like a good thing.

Still, one child to three adults was a pretty skewed ratio. Eventually, Dean retreated from the playground and stretched out on the grass beside the lake. When Mom dragged Toby off to look at a nest in a half-bare oak tree, Beth joined him.

“Hey,” he said as she perched cross-legged beside him, keeping a safe distance. He nodded toward the pair creeping along the overgrown edge of the hollow. “Your mom’s good with him.”

Beth nodded, smiling. “She was born to be a grandma.”

“I don’t know. She kicked me out of the library once for bringing ice cream in.”

Beth laughed. “Well, what did you expect?”

“She still works there, doesn’t she?”

“Part time. Toby has the best collection of children’s books the world has ever seen.”

Dean lay back on the grass and put his hands behind his head. “C’mere,” he said, and tugged on her elbow. “You look tired. You can’t be comfortable, sitting up that straight.”

She was tired. Between lying awake reliving the evening, and waking in a panic, the night had been even shorter than usual. Panic still buzzed around in the back of her brain, but exhaustion took the edge off it.

She stretched out beside him on the grass. He drew her into the crook of his body and draped his arm across her shoulders. The bulk of coats dampened the intimacy of it, but still, her body thrilled to the sensation. She could lie here, with the blue sky above and Dean’s cheek pressed against her hair, forever and be perfectly content. Tension, panic, uncertainty melted away breath by breath. Her eyes drifted closed.

Then he pulled his arm away. “Look. An eagle.”

She shook herself back from the edge of sleep. “Are you sure?” she asked, shading her eyes. “It’s not that big, is it?”

“Nah, it’s an eagle, all right. Dad used to take us fishing. Not much to do out there but watch the birds.” He paused. “If I was gonna be an animal, I’d be an eagle. I’d go up there and take on the jumbo jets.”

Beth giggled.

“What about you?” he asked. “If you were an animal, what would you be?”

Beth sat up. “Um… I don’t know.”

“C’mon,” he said. “I can tell you do. Fess up.” He propped himself up on one arm, waiting.

He was right, of course, but sharing felt like a little too much vulnerability right now. She groped for an alternative answer, but her brain shut down.

“Waiting,” Dean said.

She bowed to the inevitable. “An ant?”

He blinked. “An… ant?”

She straightened her shoulders. “An ant carries ten times its own weight, did you know that?” She flushed under his serious gaze. She took refuge in levity. “I know these kinds of incredibly useful information because I have a two-year-old boy. It’s required learning.” She smiled.

Dean did not. He seemed to be looking right through her. He took a breath. “You know,” he said softly, “you don’t have to do this all by yourself.” He reached up and brushed a fingertip across her cheek, then her lips. The world began spinning. He tugged on her arm and pulled her back down beside him, his whisper tickling the fine hairs on her face: “What are you so afraid of?”

She swallowed and closed her eyes against the brilliance. The touch of his lips against her temple consumed all the oxygen in her body, leaving nothing but the naked truth. “I’m afraid that one day, I’ll wake up and find out all this was too good to be true. That I was never meant to have it. Or that I messed it up.” She turned her head into the sleeve of his coat.

For a moment, he lay still and silent. Then, “Beth,” he said. There was a strangled quality to his voice. He lifted her chin. She could barely meet his gaze. Every nerve cried out for the touch of his lips, but suddenly the sunlight disappeared into a cloud, and in the distance, she heard her mother’s voice: Beth, I think it’s naptime…

She rolled away and sat up. “Duty calls,” she said, trying to ignore the puzzled, pained expression on his face. She didn’t want his sympathy.

They walked home, the prairie wind picking up as the temperature dropped. Warmth rushed out to encircle them as Beth opened the front door. “I’ll put him to bed before I go,” Mom said, starting down the hall.

“No—no—no!” Toby twisted his body and stretched his arms out.

Beth sighed and took him, but Toby continued to twist and squeal. She glanced over her shoulder. With a shock, she realized who he was reaching for. “Dean… I think he wants you.”

He gave her a wide-eyed look. “I’ve never put a kid to bed before.”

Mom was wearing an insufferably smug smile. “No time like the present,” she said. “Come on.”

Beth chewed on her thumbnail as she watched them go. Her mother sure had changed her tune. A few weeks ago she’d been team Prescott, and now she was Dean Townsend’s biggest fangirl.

Seeing Toby take to Dean thrilled her to her fingertips, but one naptime shift was a far cry from fatherhood. When he figured out how all-encompassing a commitment it was—and for a child not even his own flesh and blood—would he hang around or take off?

Beth pressed her fists against her forehead, trying to force down the rising fear. She needed to do something. She wasn’t used to having time on her hands. She couldn’t practice, because Toby was going to sleep. Dishes? There were dishes to be washed, right?

The noise of running water didn’t quite cover the shrieks of glee coming from the bedroom. It sounded like The Monster at the End of This Book, which always made Toby laugh hysterically.

The doorbell rang. Beth dried her hands and went to open it. “Prescott! What are you doing here?”

“Can I come in?”

She edged partway onto the porch, shielding her body behind the screen door. “Um…it’s not a very good time. I mean, um, I’m in the middle of putting Toby down for nap. What’s up?”

He looked young, carefree. “I got the job. In St. Louis.”

Beth opened her mouth and closed it. “Wow,” she said. “That’s great. Congratulations. How soon do you go?”

“They want me to start right after Thanksgiving.”

“Wow,” she said again. “That’s soon.” Back in the bedroom, the sound of tickling had replaced the reading of books.

Prescott grabbed her hand. “Come with me, Beth.”

She snatched her hand away. “What?”

“You heard me!” His laugh was boyish; he caught her hand again. “They gave me permission to hire you, they said they trusted my judgment. You said you wanted to get out of Des Plaines, right? This is your chance.”

For one wild second, she pictured it, and her heart leaped. If she’d made a wish list, she couldn’t have come up with a better scenario: a metro area big enough to offer steady gigging work and studio space; an airport right there, the ability to drop everything and fly anywhere on a moment’s notice; and a devoted advocate with the self-assurance that came from growing up with privilege. Surely it was a sign from Heaven.

Then a squeal from the back room took the wind out of her fantasy. “I can’t just drop everything and leave. I have Toby.”

Prescott waved his hand. “He’s not even in preschool. He’ll adjust.” He saw the look on her face and laughed again. “Come on, Beth, work with me here. Don’t get caught up in the details.”

She was a mother. Her entire life was details.

Prescott stepped in close. “Come on, Beth. Leave the kid with your parents, come down with me and find an apartment. We can share one, if you want. Cut the cost. No strings, I promise. Just take a risk, for once in your life.”

She almost laughed aloud. As if choosing to keep Toby, to get married, to carry on as a widow, to let Dean into her life—as if none of that counted as “risk”!

“Beth?” Dean’s voice, coming down the hall. “Your mom says there’s a CD Toby likes…” He emerged into the living room and stopped dead, staring at them.

Prescott’s expression hardened. His eyes flickered back and forth between hers. “Oh,” he said, and stepped backward. “Okay. Fine.”

“Sorry,” she said. She almost meant it.

The old porch steps groaned under the weight of Prescott’s displeasure. He rounded his car and got in; Beth winced as the door slammed. Sighing, she went back inside. “CD,” she said. “In the stereo.”

“What’d he want?” asked Dean. He didn’t look too happy, either.

She gave him what she hoped was a reassuring smile. “He came to tell me he’s moving to St. Louis. He got a job there.”

Dean’s expression brightened considerably. “Really?”

“Yeah.” She smiled, but as she followed him down the hall, she couldn’t help thinking, I really hope I didn’t just blow my only chance.

For the next chapter, click here.

In an Instant, Copyright 2026 Kathleen M. Basi. No part of this may be reprinted, or used to train AI, without written permission. Sharing this post, however? That, the author wholeheartedly approves of.

Seriously. Share.

*This post contains affiliate links.