Chapter 10
Chapter Ten
Hallie
I wake up in the dim, pre-dawn light to the beep of my alarm. I fling a hand out to shut it off and then roll over onto my back in Ben’s guest room bed. I guess it’s more mine and Julie’s bed at this point since everyone Ben knows lives locally and we are the only people to ever sleep in it. As I wait for my body to wake up, images from the night before filter through my brain.
Wrapping myself up in Ben’s hoodie and my favorite blanket and collapsing onto his couch like my body couldn’t hold me up anymore. Eating pie. My little outburst about Julie. Hinting to Ben that I think opening the firm might be the wrong choice.
I can’t believe I let that slip out. I was so comfortable, and Ben was right there with his strong, familiar arms wrapped around me and it just came out. Ben is a vault. I know he won’t tell Julie or the other girls what I said, but letting out even that tiny piece feels like I tore myself open and laid my soul bare.
I groan and roll over, burying my face in one of the pillows. It smells like laundry detergent and Ben’s woodsy scent, and my body immediately relaxes. Ben and I didn’t say much else last night after I let out those tiny truths. I stayed buried in the comforting circle of his arms while we watched TV, and then we both went to bed. As freaked out as I am by what I said last night, I also feel a little bit of relief. For the first morning in months, I’m not waking up with debilitating anxiety about my life choices. Instead, it’s more like a low hum in the background. Almost like letting some of it out last night released some of the pressure that has been building up inside of me for the better part of the year. There is a lesson in there somewhere about sharing my feelings, but I am too tired and drained, and it is too damn early for psychoanalysis.
Knowing that I have to get back to the office to pick up my car and get home to change before I have to be at Callahan, I roll out of bed and pad to the bathroom to grab a toothbrush from the stash of new ones that Ben keeps in the bathroom for when Julie or I crash.
After a quick shower, I wrap myself in one of Ben’s comically large bath sheets before getting myself as ready as I can and sliding into a pair of old flip-flops Julie must have left here at some point. I open the door quietly so I don’t wake Ben, who absolutely would not appreciate being woken up before seven in the morning. I’m already thinking about the coffee I plan on making when I get home. It’s going to be a vanilla creamer morning for sure.
I turn towards the kitchen and stop dead in my tracks. Ben is already awake, standing at the stove with a spatula in his hand and a dishtowel over his shoulder.
“Should I be preparing for the rapture?”
Ben whirls around, grinning when he sees me standing there. “Um, what?”
“It’s not even seven in the morning. I assumed that the only thing that could get you up and out of bed this early for the second day in a row is if this is, like, our last moment on earth or something.”
“I mean, I guess it could be. But also, I’m making breakfast. You and the girls have another big day today and you never leave time for breakfast. I know how you get when you’re hungry. So, actually, I’m doing this for Jules, Molly, and Emma, so you don’t inflict physical pain because of a disagreement over pens or something when it turns out that you’re really just hungry. I heard the shower go on, so I figured I would get a head start.”
“That’s so nice of you, Ben, but I have to go. I have to Uber to the office to pick up my car then go home to change so I can be at Callahan by nine.”
Ben’s face lights up. “Oh yeah, it’s adoption day. The guys and I hit the gym with Eric earlier this week. I know they’ve already been a family for four years, but the way he talked about finalizing the adoption makes it feel different. More official, I guess? I’m so happy for them and so proud of you for seeing this through for them. It’s a really good thing that you’re doing, Hal.”
“I love Maya, and I love Eric and Jen. I’m happy to be able to do it. This was a special one for me.”
The truth is, they are all special. I love every single case I work on for Callahan, even the heartbreaking ones. And when you are working for and with child services, the foster care system, and parents who have been waiting years to adopt a child, there are a lot of heartbreaking ones. I smile, feeling warm and happy at the thought of standing in that courtroom later today with Eric, Jen, and Maya and watching the judge declare them an official family.
“There you are, Hallie girl.”
“What?”
“Your smile. The real one. I haven’t seen it in a couple of days. I missed seeing you happy. Are you doing okay after last night?”
“I’m fine. I was just tired and stressed. Yesterday was such a long day, and I needed some time to recharge. And a decent sleep in your cloud bed didn’t hurt either.”
He studies me, eyes searching my face like he knows I’m full of shit, and he’s looking for the truth. Why did I ever think having Ben as a lifelong best friend was a good idea? He sees too damn much. He looks like he’s about to say something and then drops it. I inwardly breathe a sigh of relief. I don’t have the time or the mental space to get into it all this morning.
“Okay, well, you’re still eating breakfast, so you might as well sit down.” He gestures toward the bar stools lined up against his kitchen island.
“I really can’t, Benji. I need clothes for court, and I’ll be late if I stay much longer.”
“Check the closet in the spare room.”
“For what?”
“Clothes, Hallie. For court.”
“Why would my clothes for court be in your spare room closet?”
“The ghost of Ruth Bader Ginsburg put them there,” he deadpans. “She knew one day you would be here, clothes-less and late for court.”
“Don’t take the queen’s name in vain. Are there actually clothes in there?”
“Yes. Jesus, Hallie. There are clothes. You left a suit and shoes once a couple of months ago when you and Jules stayed here. I threw the suit in with my dry cleaning and hung it up in the closet in case you ever needed it. Your shoes are in there too.”
“You…huh?” My brain is incapable of forming words. He got my suit dry cleaned? If it were me, I would have just balled it up in a grocery bag or something and given it back dirty. Or, more likely, forgotten to give it back entirely.
“I got your suit dry cleaned. It’s in the closet. Okay? Now go, Hallie. Put it on. Come back to the kitchen and sit down where you will eat the omelet I’m making for you so you don’t accidentally yell at the judge because you’re hangry, and drink the coffee I’m going to give you so you’ll be properly caffeinated. I even already filled one of your insane monster tumblers with ice water. You left the purple one here a few weeks ago, by the way. Then, I’ll drive you to pick up your car and you can go straight to Callahan. You’ll be there well before nine, and you’ll spend the morning making Maya, Jen, and Eric officially a family.”
I stare at Ben, completely speechless. And then, without warning, my eyes fill with tears. “Shit,” I mutter. I frantically try to brush the tears away before Ben sees, but he misses nothing. In three strides he’s in front of me, wrapping his arms around me and pulling me into his warm chest, cradling my head in one of his hands, the other arm circling my waist.
“What is it, Hallie girl?”
I shake my head, unable to form words as the tears keep flowing. He doesn’t press. He just tightens his arms around me, rubs one hand up and down my back, and says nothing. I bury my head against him and let the tears come. It’s the care, I think, that does it.
I’m the original “I’m fine; don’t worry about me” girl. The one who takes care of everyone else. I handle the logistics and anticipate what everyone needs and make sure that they have it. I remember all the things for all the people. I remember birthdays and coordinate joint presents and get our friends together when it’s been too long since we’ve seen each other, and I remember when people are sick or hurting, and I check in when they’ve had a bad day. But it rarely feels like someone does that for me. I think everyone mostly thinks I don’t need to be taken care of because I never ask for it. And I guess I don’t need it. But god, it feels good when someone just does it without me having to tie myself up in knots worrying about how to ask.
Ben waking up early and making me the breakfast he knew I needed, having a water tumbler for me, and figuring out the logistics of getting me to my car and to Callahan on time and dry cleaning my fucking suit, for god’s sake, without me having to ask for any of it? It is a sledgehammer to the already tenuous hold I have on my emotional control.
When the tears finally dry up, I take a deep breath, letting Ben’s familiar scent calm me the rest of the way before I step back. Ben reaches up to brush the rest of the tears off my face with his thumbs.
“Feel better?”
“I do.” Shockingly, that’s the truth.
“Good. Now go get dressed so I can feed you.”
I pause, considering. “You’re not going to ask me why I was crying?”
He studies me for a second with his calm blue eyes. “I don’t have to. You’ve been holding a lot inside of you, and I don’t just mean today or this week. I think you always have a lot going on under the surface you don’t let anyone see, and it’s not a surprise you need to let it all out. I think you were long overdue for that cry, and I’m glad that you weren’t alone when it happened. You’re about to start something big and you’re worried about it, and I think it’s more complicated than just ‘change is hard.’ You don’t want to talk to Jules or the girls about it yet—maybe ever. And it’s hard to get a word in with your parents because I know you love Hannah and Jo, but your sisters take up a lot of space and it's hard for you to find room for yourself. You are at my house, so you fell apart with me. If I wasn’t here, you would have done it by yourself—or not at all—and then kept moving forward like nothing happened. But I’m glad you’re here, and I am too. You’re my best friend, and you can always talk to me or fall apart with me and not talk at all. Lean on me. I see you, Hal.”
It's the “I see you” that has tears pricking at my eyes again. Ben gives me a look so full of understanding that the relief almost brings me to my knees. Then he leans forward, kissing my forehead before stepping back. “It’s going to be okay, Hallie girl. Go get dressed. I’ll finish breakfast.”
“And coffee. You promised me coffee. I want it with…”
“Vanilla creamer,” he supplies.
I look at him, astonished. “How did you know? I just decided when I got out of bed.”
“I told you, Hal—I see you. Go. Clothes. Now.” Then he winks at me and turns to walk back towards the stove.
Well, okay then. I do what I’m told and go back to the guest room. I open the closet where my favorite black suit I thought I lost months ago is, indeed, hanging with a gray silk shell in a dry cleaner bag on the bar. A pair of my black heels is lined up neatly below it on the floor.
I put it all on, repair the makeup ruined by my impromptu crying jag, and go out to start my day, feeling lighter than I have in weeks.