23. Ben #2
At first, I was methodical with each bite, not tasting anything but ash, but after my belly began to warm and my body realized it was getting calories, I began to notice the delicious tastes.
Of course Giselle was a fantastic cook.
I didn’t deserve her.
The meal ended far too soon, even with me gorging myself. I sat there, staring at my empty plate, before Giselle began to load the plates into the dishwasher.
I should be doing that—after all, she had cooked—but I was locked in place.
“All right, Benny, you get dressed, and I’ll get Veronica’s shoes on since Natalie got her all dolled up, then we’ll head out.”
“Okay!”
Giselle turned to my daughter, all smiles, like I wasn’t decomposing right in front of her. “Hey there, little missy, let’s wipe that face of yours, shall we?”
Veronica cooed and cheered, clapping her hands together. My daughter’s joy shone like the sun.
“Where are you going?” I managed to ask after clearing my throat.
She pointed to something over my shoulder and I followed her finger to see two giant vases of flowers sitting on the center of the dining room table.
“We’re going to visit their mothers’ graves and pay their respects since the anniversary of things is approaching.
You’re welcome to come, but you don’t have to. ”
She knew about that? Of course she did. I probably shouldn’t have been surprised, and yet I was.
My conscience had been telling me that I needed to communicate , but I couldn’t bring myself to do it.
I didn’t know if it was my instinct to isolate myself or maybe resentment that she could be so happy and healthy despite the hard hand she’d been dealt.
My heart burned, and I struggled to control my breathing. When I recovered, I still spoke with that disgusting, cracking voice.
“I’m not ready for that.”
“That’s absolutely okay,” she said, as sweet as ever. “But Benny is, and Veronica is curious about her own mother, so I’ll take them.”
God, I was such a fucking failure. I couldn’t even help my children with their grief. I’d thought I could be enough, that I could force myself to push through and take care of them, but I was all the way back to square one.
“I just want you to remember that you don’t have to do this on your own. I can help you find a therapist again so you can heal. Because no matter what those awful voices say, you do deserve to heal. Even if we break up and never speak again, I want that for you.
“I want you to have peace.”
I stared at her, completely in awe. How could she still be so kind when I’d proven how worthless I was?
Everything surged up inside me, and suddenly I was crying openly. Wordlessly, I reached for Giselle. She stepped into my arms and let me hold her.
God, it hurt so much— so fucking much —but her embrace soothed it, eased the sharp, biting edges of it.
“How could you possibly want to sign on to being with such a broken man?” I asked, voice cracking. “I’m barely even an alpha anymore.”
“You’re not broken,” she murmured, her hands going to my face and cupping my cheeks.
The kindness in those honeyed eyes of hers was so deep, so endless.
“You just need time to heal. Just like I did when my mother died. I’m happy to help you through it if you’ll let me, but you’re the one who has to want to. ”
I wanted to. I did. I’d had a glimpse of what the future could be with the jamboree and the night we’d spent together, and I would do anything to have that back.
Anything ? a voice inside me asked.
The road to recovery wouldn’t be easy—it would be painful, uncomfortable, and require a whole lot of work.
But it was worth it. It had to be worth it, right?
“I… I want to go with you,” I said finally, composing myself.
“Are you sure? You don’t have to.”
I shook my head, reminding myself that I could be strong. I had been once in my life, and I could be again. “I want to.”
“All right.” She pressed a single, velvet-soft kiss to my forehead. “Is that what you want to wear?”
I looked down at the shoddy outfit I’d put on, and realized that no, it wasn’t. My wife and Veronica’s mother deserved more than that.
“I’m going to change.”
“Take as long as you need. I’ll be right here.”
And the crazy thing was, I knew she would be.
I stared at the grove of trees near the edge of what had once been our pack lands, the only piece of the property I hadn’t sold. All four of us were gathered in silence—even Veronica was quiet.
It wasn’t our tradition to use headstones for our dead. Instead, I’d planted a tree over every single grave I dug, trying to match the person to something that fit them.
Over Millia’s grave, I’d planted a peach tree.
She’d always loved them. Sometimes, I felt like I could still taste her cobbler on my tongue.
For Veronica’s mother, I’d planted an apple tree, as I remembered her favorite lotion had been apple cinnamon no matter what time of year it was.
I’d never been able to find the body of her husband, meaning he was either eaten or ripped to shreds too small for me to identify, but I’d buried one of his caps with her.
I looked at the other trees spread out in the orderly margins I’d planted them in.
A pear tree for Allison McGregor, an eighteen-year-old girl who would have been the first in our pack to go to an Ivy League school.
Most of my pack hadn’t pursued secondary education, and those of who had, opted to go to a community college or somewhere close.
We’d had money from our pack fund, yes, but if everyone had wanted to go somewhere expensive, it would have wiped it out pretty fast. I’d found her half under her bed, holding onto a stuffed animal that had belonged to one of her siblings.
A Granny Smith apple tree for Isiah Timothy’s grave. He had been one of two mechanics in the pack, and he’d had a rant ready whenever someone tried to say red apples and green apples were the same. I’d found most of him in front of his garage, as if he’d been trying to protect the door.
A white birch for Gem Hernandez. Her grandmother had married into our pack and she’d been courting a man from up north. I found her inside Timothy’s garage.
A pine for Ranata Goldstien. I’d found her in the garage too.
Stephani Sui, a red maple. Found her in the schoolhouse.
Americana Dimaccio, an American Beech, of course.
One by one, I mentally went through them until I landed on the one that was farthest away. Although all the trees were less than two years old, this one was larger than all the rest.
A weeping willow, barely a fraction of what it would grow to be, but that was where I buried all the pieces of my people that I couldn’t match up or identify.
It had been a heartbreaking, gruesome process that was seared into every inch of my memory, but I had wrapped every bit in silk and read them their last blessings as their alpha.
Although I had failed them in life, I wouldn’t in the hereafter, so I made sure I sent them on their way with all the guidance and respect they deserved.
So much pain and terror on one plot of land, but at the same time… there was growth. Undeniable growth. And green. Where there once was only pain, now there was something entirely new.
“Hi, Mommy,” Benny said, the first to speak. He let go of my hand and took a step forward, then did something I hardly dared to imagine when I’d planted it.
He sat under it, looking up at the thin, tender branches.
“A lot has happened since I saw you last. Veronica is talking now! I protected her, just like you asked.”
I stifled my sobs, touched down to the deepest parts of my heart as my only son said everything he needed to say. I’d had no idea that he’d been bottling up so many thoughts, and while guilt clawed at me for it, I was also relieved that he was finally expressing them.
In an effort to let him heal from the unimaginable things he had survived, I had cut him off from so much of what he needed to move past it. That was my mistake, but I was going to learn.
Veronica cooed slightly as Giselle bounced her. When Benny was finished, he twisted and held his hand out to me.
“Daddy, will you come tell us a story about our moms?” he asked, looking up at me with bright, shining eyes that reminded me so much of his mother.
“Of course, buddy.” I joined him, even though it felt like I was half-outside my own body. After I’d settled on the grass next to him, Giselle handed Veronica to me, and I set my daughter in my lap. Giselle took a couple of steps back, but I caught the hem of her dress.
“Where ya headed to?” I tried to ask lightly, but with everything my throat had been through, I didn’t think I pulled it off that well.
“Just going to give you some privacy,” she said, her expression still so sweet. I would always be in awe of how kind she was. “I promise I’ll be close by.”
I let go of the hem of her dress to pat the ground behind us. “Please, sit with us.”
Her eyebrows rose, and her lips fell open in an O. “Are you sure?”
I nodded and put as much sincerity into my voice as I could muster. “I am. No matter what happens, you’re family now.”
I didn’t quite have words for the expression that crossed those beautiful features of hers, yet I knew exactly what they were conveying.
“Thank you,” she murmured, slowly sitting down next to us, then reached over and rested her hand on my thigh.
Taking a deep breath, I cleared my mind and looked at the vibrant yet small leaves of my people’s trees. “Did I ever tell you how your mother and I first found out we were pregnant?”
We stayed until my voice went hoarse, and the kids’ stomachs began to rumble with hunger. Surprisingly, the mood wasn’t grim, or even particularly dire. There was an ache there, of course, but I’d finally found that joy so many people said would eventually come when remembering those we loved.
It was the first time I could recall Millia and smile. I could feel a bit of mirth as I recalled our various escapades and foibles. I wasn’t the same man who had been married to her, but I wasn’t not him either.
Like everything, it was complicated.
When we all eventually piled into the car, I drove us to my kids’ favorite pizza place and ordered everything they wanted. While food couldn’t solve all their issues—nor should it—I figured we deserved it after the day we had.
By the time we got home, Veronica was hankering for her afternoon nap and even Benny seemed a bit worn. Unsurprisingly, it was Giselle who steered us again, suggesting we watch a movie together.
The four of us sat on the couch together—me in the middle with Veronica sleeping half on me and half on Giselle, while Benny leaned up against my thigh. Then, when Veronica woke up, I put her on the floor and we all played together.
Like a real family.
I was still so raw inside, like I’d broken all my bones and was only just healing from the fractures, but as we sat there, I had hope that I would recover. There was a whole lot of work in store for me, but it was doable.
A lighter dinner came and went with fresh veggies and microwave dinners, although Giselle was still so stuffed from our late lunch that she only had one of her Ensures. Before I knew it, Veronica was fighting sleep again, and even Benny was nodding off.
It was time to put them to bed.
And for the first time since the start of the month, it was me who tucked them in, me who sang to Veronica, me who read to Benny until he was asleep. Benny and I had a lot we needed to talk about, but I wanted to give him time to process.
I’d dropped the ball in a lot of ways, but I was committed to doing better. Sure, there would be pitfalls, and progression wasn’t linear. Sometimes I’d fall back, or make mistakes. But the important thing was that I would always get back up and do my best.
Then, with those two safe within the hands of the Sandman, I returned downstairs to Giselle.
She was standing in my living room, looking at the pictures of my children on the wall. I could smell a complex mix of emotions coming from her, with a heady layer of exhaustion permeating all of it.
“They go down easy?” she asked, turning to face me.
“Yeah. It’s been an intense day.”
She nodded, her eyes sliding in every direction, which told me she didn’t quite know what to say. “Well, if they’re steady, I guess I’ll head out.”
I moved without thinking it through, and the next thing I knew, I was pulling her into a hug. When I was embracing her, I felt anchored, like she was a rock to hold me steady in the storm that was my life.
“Could you stay?” I asked, knowing I had no right to request that.
But as always, she looked at me with more benevolence than I deserved. “Yeah, I can do that.”