Chapter 9
Maven
Ben’s white truck pulled in front of the house a few minutes early, but thankfully, he waited in the cab. Apparently, extra time together was the last thing either of us wanted.
Penny looked out the front window. “So he’s your husband?”
She was too perceptive to keep the truth from, but I’d shared only what was necessary. I stepped next to her, ensuring the curtains hid me from view. “Technically, yes, but like I told you, we are waiting for our divorce to go through.”
“Then why is he taking you on a date?”
I had clearly done a very poor job explaining the situation. “The judge just wants us to be certain we don’t want to be married anymore, so she’s having us spend time together.”
“And you’re sure you don’t want to be married? Because it would be fun to have an uncle.”
I ran a hand through her long blond hair. “I’m sure.”
The truck door opened, and I quickly stepped farther out of view, though Penny kept her vigil. “Oh, wait. I know him. That’s Dad’s friend.” She glanced over her shoulder with a big smile. “He helped us move our stuff into Nana’s.”
I glanced at Carson, who was watching our exchange from the couch. “Did he?”
“I needed the help.” Carson paused, like there was more to his admission. “He’s also been assisting me with…” His gaze shifted to Penny. “Just some stuff at my dental office.” He must be talking about the play structure for the waiting room.
My heart gave a small ping. Ben and Carson had been friends even longer than Ben and I had been, so there was no way I was going to let our history ruin their friendship.
Especially now that Carson was back in Autumn Ridge.
Being a single dad, he needed all the support he could get.
“It’s fine. This town is too small for grudges.
” Which is why it was a good thing I lived in New York.
Before Carson could respond, Ben knocked on the door.
A small wave of nerves skirted through me. A conditioned response. I was no better than Pavlov’s dog—and Ben had always been my bell.
Penny hurried to the door and opened it.
“Hey there, Penny.” Ben’s deep voice filled the room. “How are you?”
She looked thrilled he’d remembered her name. “Good.”
“Hey,” I said, popping up beside Penny. She was the only member of my family that didn’t unequivocally love Ben, and I had no intention of her abdicating her neutral position in a single interaction.
Ben’s hands were tucked into his pockets, and he was wearing the same outfit from earlier—jeans and a button-up shirt, though he’d thrown on a hat. Huge shocker.
Penny gave a small pout. “If this is a date, aren’t you supposed to bring Aunt Maven flowers? Or chocolates? Or something?”
“That is a very valid point.” I placed an arm around Penny’s shoulders. “Ben?”
The shake of his head was subtle as his eyes locked with mine. “I figured because you asked me out, you were going to have chocolates for me. Was I wrong?”
I clucked my tongue, feigning a look of disappointment.
His gaze shifted to Penny. “I’ll make sure to bring something next time.”
Penny nodded.
“You ready, then?” I asked.
“I’m not sure I am.”
The uncertainty in his voice was exactly what I wanted to hear. I kissed Penny on the top of her head. “Bye, Sweet P. I’ll see you later.”
She gave us both a farewell wave, then closed the door behind us, likely resuming her place at the window.
“The resemblance between the two of you is uncanny,” Ben said, a step behind me.
I glanced over my shoulder. “Carson says the same thing.” He and our mom both had blond hair and green eyes as well, but I would never complain about anyone calling her my carbon copy. “She can also be a stubborn little sass, just like her aunt.”
Ben chuckled, stepping ahead to get the truck door for me. “She has to be about the age you were when you forced your way onto that first fishing trip.”
“Your dad invited me.”
“Because you were waiting on the porch with Carson like a sad little puppy.”
I rolled my eyes, even though it was true. I’d heard Carson was going fishing, and I thought it was completely unfair to not be invited just because I was a girl. Thankfully, Tom Walker was as good as they come. “You’re just bitter that I still hold the Walker Family record for the largest trout.”
He tapped his fingers on the top of the door, considering me. “I caught a twenty-two-and-a-half-incher recently.”
“How disappointed were you when you measured it and realized it was an inch and a half too short?”
The corners of his mouth twitched. “I’d prefer not to say.”
Why did the thought of Ben still trying to beat my record make me giddy? “Keep trying.” I attempted to control my amusement with little success. “It only took you twenty years to get that close. Maybe in another twenty, you’ll get that close again.”
“You sure know how to make a guy hope.”
“And you sure know how to delay the inevitable. Let’s go or we’re going to be late.”
Ben took his sweet time walking around the front of the truck and climbing inside. “Where are we headed, anyway?”
“Main Street.” I reached for my seatbelt and gave it a tug, but it didn’t budge. I tried again with the same result. Nothing. “Does this seatbelt not work?”
“Sorry, I’ve been meaning to fix that.”
For a gal who had blurred lines regarding several laws, seatbelt wearing wasn’t one of those. I glanced at the middle seat.
“That one works,” he said, following my line of sight.
The way my whole body filled with anticipation at the thought of sitting there meant I should stay put. “That’s okay. We don’t have very far to go.”
He started the truck but didn’t put it in drive. “Is that what your mom would say?”
I returned his look with one of annoyance.
He knew exactly what Nurse Sharon would say: a majority of accidents happen close to home.
She’d reminded us both of the statistic a hundred times through the years.
Reluctantly, I scooted to the middle seat, making sure no part of me touched Ben.
I was apparently fine with minor PDA for the sake of my cause, but I knew my limits.
It would be best if I kept as much distance as possible when we were alone. “Happy?” I said once I’d buckled.
“Content,” Ben answered, easing the truck forward.
“And yes,” I kept my gaze on the road, “Penny’s about the same age as I was when I moved to Autumn Ridge.
I hope being here proves to be as good for her as it was for me.
” The admission felt trivial, and yet a part of me instantly regretted saying it.
I didn’t need the reminder of what this place meant to me.
And I didn’t need Ben to be reminded either. Not that it likely mattered to him.
In my periphery, Ben’s gaze flicked to me. “I hope so too.”
To redirect the conversation away from Memory Lane, I switched on the radio.
An ad was playing on the current station, so I turned the knob through several channels of static until Benson Boone’s voice echoed through the speakers.
“I haven’t seen an AM/FM radio since… well, probably since I last rode in here. ”
Ben patted the dashboard. “She’s a classic.”
“Do you mean a relic?”
Ben shook his head. “Says the woman who doesn’t own a car.”
“Having a car in New York City makes no sense.” It was much quicker and more convenient to just jump on the subway. And so much more affordable, as Ben well knew. “And when I need to come here, I can either take a train or borrow a car.”
“Speaking of, whose Mercedes did you borrow when you drove home last month?”
“A friend’s.” I knew the ambiguity would annoy him.
His gaze shifted to me, waiting for me to respond, but when I didn’t, he looked forward again. “Where are we headed?”
“You can park at the church.” I looked out the window.
Main Street was bustling with people. The leaves on the large trees that lined both sides were transitioning—some were still green, but most had changed to an assortment of red, yellow, and orange.
The fall colors truly were stunning, and the contrast between them and the white steepled church sent a familiar wave of nostalgia through me.
Ben parked his truck next to Edna Bloomberg’s Buick. “So why exactly are we here?”
I unbuckled my seatbelt. “You’ll see.”
He followed me toward the back of the church, glancing my way occasionally until we reached the back door. “For real, what are we doing?”
My smile grew. “It’s bingo night!”
He stared at me like he was trying to make sense of what I’d said. Or maybe if I was serious.
“On the community board at Keller’s, I saw the Ednas host a monthly bingo night at the church activity center. Every first Thursday at five. How perfect for our shared experience, right?” I glanced at the time on my phone. “But we need to hurry. It’s starting.”
As I reached for the handle, Ben grabbed my arm, stopping me. “The Ednas? All things considered, that’s who you think we should spend the next hour with?”
I feigned ignorance. “I don’t see the problem.”
He glanced at the door and back at me. “If we go inside, every person in Autumn Ridge is going to know our business by tomorrow.”
My smile was possibly a touch overdone. “I thought that was the charm of living in a small town—everyone’s business becomes community property.
Besides, you know as well as I do that there’s no way we’re going to keep people from finding out.
” I paused. “Unless we dismiss the Vermont case and file the divorce in New York.”
Ben was already shaking his head. “You want the Ednas to know about us still being married? Let’s go tell them.”
I lifted my chin, hoping he was bluffing. “Perfect. Let’s go.”
He wasn’t. Without a moment’s hesitation, he pulled the door open, gesturing me inside. “After you.”