CHAPTER EIGHT
A week later, Ben pulled into his parents’ driveway in Knoxville, relieved to be done with the seven-and-a-half-hour drive. Maya had slept on and off for most of the trip. When she wasn’t sleeping, she chatted away about this and that the entire ride. He’d tried to focus on what Amber said to Bella about Kenny, but his mind kept drifting off to a beautiful, sassy arson suspect—one who was mad at him for holding back his relationship with Maya.
That hadn’t been intentionally deceitful. He just needed objective, unbiased details about what had happened that Saturday night. And his daughter being part of Lizzie’s alibi felt like muddy waters. What Lizzie thought about him didn’t matter anyway.
Progress on the case had stalled. Lizzie’s phone turned out to be a dead end, and she still hadn’t given him a list of people who might want to do her harm. If it truly was a random act of violence, he might never catch the person.
His mother greeted them as though they hadn’t just been here for his dad’s birthday a month before, throwing open the door and rushing onto the porch.
“Oh, my poor baby,” she said when Maya got out of the car and limped up the sidewalk. “I can’t believe your high school basketball career is over. How are you feeling? Come in and sit down.” She guided Maya inside, offered her the most comfortable chair, and placed a pillow under her soft-cast foot. As the only grandchild, Maya was used to the attention.
“Hello, son,” his father greeted with a handshake. “Ready for some football tomorrow?”
“You bet,” Ben said. He hauled in the luggage and took it to the two rooms where he and Maya would stay.
“You hungry?” his mother asked upon his return.
“Starving,” Ben said.
“Well, I’ve got big plans for tomorrow, so I refuse to cook tonight. Pizza?”
“Yes!” Maya called from the living room.
Ben laughed. “I got it,” he told his mom. He pulled out his phone and ordered from his favorite pizza place just up the street.
The next morning, Thanksgiving Day, his mother was making pies in the kitchen when Ben came in for coffee. “Can I help you, Mom?”
“I’m okay for now. Later, when I need some chopping done, I’ll call you up. You know where everything is. Help yourself to breakfast.”
He slathered some peanut butter on a bagel, poured some coffee, and went to find his dad, who was already set up to watch football. Maya slept in, and Ben finally woke her around noon. They helped in the kitchen until his mom shooed them out to set the table.
At two o’clock, the four of them sat down to a wonderful meal, and his father said grace. After that, there was no escape, and his mother started in.
“So, honey,” she said innocently between bites of stuffing and sweet potatoes. “Have you given any more thought to internet dating?”
“I have given zero thoughts to internet dating,” Ben said.
“Why not, Dad?” Maya said. “It’s a great idea. I’ve been telling him the same thing, Grandma.”
“Betty’s daughter just got engaged to a man she met that way. I understand it’s all the rage now. There’s no stigma to it anymore.”
“That’s not why I’m not interested,” Ben said, knowing his protests were in vain. “When I meet someone, I want it to be organic and authentic.”
“But sometimes you gotta stack the odds and nudge fate a little,” his mom continued. “No sense in limiting yourself to only who you meet in person. There are so many great women out there.”
“Dad,” Ben said. “Please help me.”
“Don’t drag me into this,” his father said. “Besides, it doesn’t sound half bad to me. Think how much time and money you could save, weeding out the ones you’re not attracted to before you even go out.”
“Efficiency is just part of it,” his mom said. “It also opens up a whole lot of possibilities. People you’d never meet otherwise.” She seemed to be working from a prepared script, ticking off all the pros of online dating.
“Yeah,” Maya chimed in. “What if the woman of your dreams lives in Greensboro?”
“Why do I feel like this conversation was preplanned?”
“In the meantime,” his mom said, ignoring his accusation. “I have someone I’d like to set you up with.”
Ben groaned.
“Her name’s Juliet, and she’s in my book club. She’s cute and loves to read. Probably around your age.”
“Can we please talk about something other than my love life? Anything but my love life.”
“What life?” Maya said. “Dad, all you do is work and take care of me. What are you gonna do when I go to college next year?”
“Throw a party. Walk around naked. Eat cereal for dinner every night.”
Maya rolled her eyes in that dramatic way only a teenage girl could. “I’ll make you an offer,” she said. “I’ll do all the work—set up your account, manage it, message the women, and rule out the crazies. All you have to do is trust me and go on the dates.”
The upside of a small family gathering was that there was always enough food. The downside was that it was impossible to change the subject or get out of a conversation you didn’t like—especially with his mom at the helm.
“If it will get you two off my back and allow us to switch topics, then fine,” Ben grumbled.
His mom and daughter threw their hands in the air and let out a cry of victory. He knew he would regret this, but he also had no intention of dating anyone from the internet. He could come up with excuses all day long to keep from actually having to take a woman to dinner.
Finally, the conversation turned to Maya and how her senior year was progressing, what colleges she’d applied to, and where she really wanted to go. “I grew up wanting to be a Volunteer, like Dad, but I’m also looking at some North Carolina schools. Most of my friends applied to UNC, so I did too. Just to be safe.”
“As long as you’re not considering Alabama,” Ben’s dad said. “This is a Crimson Tide free home.”
“We’d love to have you back in Knoxville,” his mom said. “But you do what’s right for you.”
Ben helped with the dishes, then settled in with his dad to watch football. Maya was stretched out on a recliner, researching dating sites on her laptop.
“How old are you, Dad? Thirty-five?”
“Try thirty-six.”
“I was close. How young do you want to go? How about thirty?”
“Sure.” He was not invested in this one bit. And because it would never amount to anything, he didn’t care what she put.
“Do you have a hair color preference?”
“No.”
“I’m putting no smokers. I know you hate that.”
He nodded.
“Add that she has to have a sense of humor and want kids,” his mom said.
“Has to like football, and preferably a Tennessee fan,” his dad added.
“Tall would be good. Since Dad’s so tall,” Maya said, typing in everyone’s suggestions. “And has to love dogs. I wouldn’t trust anyone that didn’t.”
“Do I get any say in this?” Ben asked. Not that he cared, but he thought it funny that they were all adding things they wanted without regard to what he might prefer.
“Sure,” Maya said. “We gotta do a whole section about what you like, and I’m stumped. Do you have any hobbies? Do you have any friends?”
“I have friends at work. I like to play basketball,” he said defensively. “I’m pretty good at word games.”
“Why don’t I just put that you play bridge and birdwatch? That’ll have ’em lining up.”
“Hey!” Ben’s dad said.
“Sorry, Grandpa.” Maya laughed. “Those things are a big yawn, Dad. I might have to take some creative liberties to jazz up what you do in your spare time.”
“You mean lie?”
“Embellish. Stretch the truth a little,” Maya corrected. “Everyone does it on these sites.”
“How do you know?”
Maya shrugged and looked over what she’d entered. “Hm.”
“What?” he said.
“On paper, you don’t look so good.” She bit her lip. “You’re handsome and have a stable job, but you don’t seem all that interesting. Maybe you should start a band or become a skydiving instructor on the weekends.”
“Sure. I’ll get right on that.”
“What are you interested in, honey?” his mom said, jumping back in. “Politics, sports, travel, music? Are there any clubs you could join around New Bern?”
“I’m happy with my boring life,” Ben said. At least he had been until today. For the last seventeen years, caring for Maya had been and still was his top priority. But now that she no longer needed constant supervision, she might have a point.
What was he going to do when she left? If his unique selling proposition was his word game prowess, he could kiss any shot at dating goodbye.
“I’ve thought about getting into photography,” he said.
“Oh,” Maya said. “What about traveling? Bella’s cousin has a social media channel all about world travel. Maybe you could go somewhere interesting. And take me with you.” The I’m-so-sweet smile she used when she wanted something spread across her face.
“We’ll see,” he said, not about to commit to anything on the spot. “How ’bout some pie? Is it time for pie yet?”
His mom laughed. “Yes. Let’s eat pie. Maya and I will get back to arranging your marriage after some sugar-drenched pecans.”
Since Maya couldn’t play and because it was a holiday, the coach had given her permission to miss Saturday’s game. That meant they could spend an extra day with his folks. Ben helped his dad with some projects around the house while his mom taught Maya the family recipe for enchiladas.
He overheard a few conversations between Maya and his mother that gave him some hints about what Maya wanted for Christmas. Real ideas. Not “a new mom,” which was what she’d taken to saying every time he asked.
Over the next couple of days, they revisited Ben’s boringness several times, but Maya finally declared she had enough to get his profile up and running. Ben was dubious, but held his tongue. Maya was so excited about it and had put so much time into it, he couldn’t bring himself to pooh-pooh her enthusiasm.
Lizzie crossed his mind off and on over the weekend. He was working her case, so it was only natural that thoughts of work—thoughts of her—would creep up. At least, that’s what he kept telling himself. He ignored the fact that the thoughts usually coincided with his mom and Maya bringing up his love life.
They said goodbye to his parents on Sunday morning, returned to New Bern that evening, and got ready for another week of school and work.