Chapter two
Hours pass. It seems strange a person's life comes down to this. Their remains placed in memoriam, the rest of their life a strange collection of objects that held meaning for them but now serve no purpose. Piles of clothes surround me making it hard to walk through the bedroom. Another hour and I should be done with this room.
A siren echoes through the quiet house. It draws closer until I'm sure it's passing right by. Navigating my way through the clothes, I make my way to the window so I can look outside. More sirens approach and they keep getting louder. Lights flash through the large bay window casting the walls in red and blue neon.
Pulling the curtain aside there are two police cars parked in front on either side of a limousine. Cold chills run down my arms. He wouldn't! I shake my head as disbelief floods through me. The driver gets out and almost runs to the rear door. Standing to one side he opens it.
Ben steps out of the limo. His sharp gray eyes look at the house as he frowns like seeing his childhood home is distasteful to him. His hair is slicked back but the waves of it still show. He's tanned, even more so then I remember. He's dressed in tight fitting jeans with a t-shirt that does nothing to hide his abs and seems to cling to each individual muscle. He reaches in to the darkness of the limo and pulls out a sports jacket that he throws over one shoulder.
He smiles at the driver and clasps him on the shoulder in his oh so friendly manner then he reaches in his pocket and pulls out a roll of money, pulling off several bills that he hands to the man. The driver tries to refuse but Ben insists. I can hear him in my head.
Take the money, you need it.
Oh, no sir, I can't take your money sir, the driver will be saying.
Ben smiles and nods but then as I watch he slides the bills in the man's shirt pocket under his jacket. Ben can do that with anyone. No one's a stranger to him and no one seems to stand up to him. You'd think he'd never been told no in his life, people just welcome him into their space and their lives.
My hand shakes as I let go of the curtain. He isn't supposed to be here. Dad said he wasn't going to make it back. Breath comes in short ragged gasps as I try to think calming thoughts. He'd barely shown up for the funeral and I'd been able to avoid talking to him then. How am I to avoid him now? The house is empty, it'll just be the two of us. Why is he here?
Why do I see that shirt clinging to his tight abs when I close my eyes?
Nervously I lick my lips, suddenly parched. I walk into the kitchen filling a glass from the fridge. The front door opens and closes. Casual. I have to keep this casual. All I have to do is pleasantries, then get the hell out of here. The rest of the sorting can wait.
"Hello Vic," Ben says leaning against the archway.
My heart skips a beat. Gray eyes pierce me and I'm a little girl again. Torn between wanting to run to his strong arms for protection and my anger that he left.
I hate you.
Except now he's the one walking out the door instead of my mom. I was standing in the hallway, knowing he would turn back, that he wouldn't leave me too. He shook his head slightly with his eyes so sad and then walked away. My dad stood there shaking with anger, his mom was crying but no one said a word. Ben just left.
I sip my glass of water as he stares at me. The silence is uncomfortable. I think of dozens of things to say, discarding them all. What can bridge the last six years? I swallow, blink, and then say the only thing I can think of. "Hello Ben."
He smiles. It's a slow spreading thing, like a fire slowly grabbing hold of a fresh log that works its way across his face lighting up everything around it. Does he know he's striking a pose or is he just naturally this graceful?
"Been a long time," he says.
"Yeah," I reply.
Great conversation here. We can't even do small talk. Each statement creates a long pause. Is he as nervous as I am? Is he pissed? Does he hate me?
"Why are you here?" I blurt out.
He looks surprised and his expression turns dark. His smile fades. "Mom's lawyer is supposed to stop by."
Silence sits heavy between us. I wait. Then wait some more.
"Well, there's business to take care of here," he says at last.
"Oh, I see. Well." I push off the counter and start towards the bedroom. "I promised Dad I'd sort all of your mom's stuff for you."
I start past him but the archway isn't wide enough for me to go through without touching him. He reaches his arm in front of me stopping my progress. The intoxicating scent of him fills my nostrils.
"Ben, let me by."
He stares down at me and I look up at him defiant. I bite the inside of my lip to stop the quiver that threatens. It takes all my will to stare into his eyes, to not reach out my arms, embrace him and forgive the past. He doesn't get that, he chose to leave, I didn't.
He drops his arm and I push past him.