Chapter six
Esmeralda is an amazing cook and the house is filled with the smells of dinner. I finish dressing quickly my stomach growling in anticipation. Dinner is a semi-formal affair most nights here at the villa. That's the way we were raised. A time for family and for friends, but also training for proper society. I check myself in the mirror one last time before heading to the dining room.
It's brightly lit with fresh flowers down the middle of the table and along the walls. Food is set up at one end as there's only the two of us dining tonight. Ben stands behind the chair at the head of the table dressed immaculately in a dark gray tuxedo. As I walk in the room he looks over and then he smiles. My heart skips a beat. I pause in the doorway both for effect and to recover my composure as a rush of blood makes me feel faint.
"Vic ..." he says.
I smile as he looks me up and down. I walk over to my seat to the right of his and he moves to pull my chair out helping me and pushing it in. Then he takes a seat himself. The food is amazing and we talk sparingly as we east.
"Would my young masters like dessert?" Esmeralda asks.
"Yes, please. The food was wonderful as always Ezz, thank you," Ben says.
I had intended to pass on dessert but Ben takes charge. He smiles at me and I know he's aware I would have passed. His finger traces the rim of his coffee cup and he stares into the dark liquid.
"How have you been Ben?" I ask.
He looks up at me with a half smile. "I find I miss her," he says chuckling.
"I do too," I say reaching out to rest my hand on his arm.
He stares at my hand but doesn't move away. I feel that connection between us and somehow it finally seems to bridge the chasm of years that sits between us.
"Remember when you broke your arm?" he asks.
"Yeah, that kind of stands out in my memory," I say a phantom pain flashing where it broke.
"I told you not to do it."
"You told me not to do it in such a way you knew damn well I would!"
"Me?"
"Yes you! You know I'd have done anything to impress you."
He covers my hand with his free one. Our eyes meet and everything is just the way it was before he left. There's no more distance between us. There's no pain, just us. The way it should have stayed.
"I know," he says.
"Why did you leave?" I blurt it out.
He stiffens then removes his hand from mine setting it on the table. His finger starts tracing that familiar pattern and his gaze breaks from mine.
"Do you remember what happened?"
I nod slowly. "Of course I do?"
"All of it?" he asks sharply.
"Of course I do."
I'd almost been raped. Ben stopped it. I remember it well, he carried me home that night. We'd been in my bedroom when dad came in and the two of them fought again.
Ben stares, something unknown behind his eyes.
"Why did you and my dad fight so much?" I ask to break the silence.
Ben shrugs. "I don't know."
I can see the lie. Ben's an excellent liar so what is he holding back from me?
"You two never got along. Soon as you became a teenager you and he were butting heads constantly."
"Your dad's an ass," Ben says.
"How can you say that! He treated you like his own son."
"Yes, he did," he says.
"And this is how you repay him?"
"Where is he now Vic? Why were you alone at Mother's house working? Why is he not taking care of that?"
I fall silent. Ben knows of my dad's struggle with alcoholism. He knows how much Meryl meant to him.
"Exactly. Why does it all fall on you? Isn't that the husband's job?" Ben's voice is sharp as he leaps to the attack.
"You have no idea how hard it's been on him. You're off gallivanting around living the play boy life. Different women every week. Thrill seeking all over the world. You barely made it back for her funeral!"
"I was there," he says through gritted teeth.
"You showed up hours before! What about the days leading up to it? What about the months before when she was sick? She only wanted to see you!"
I watch his jaw tense and untense, his hands clench and unclench. What is he holding back from me?
"You think I didn't want to be there for my mother?" he asks at last.
"If you wanted to be there then why weren't you? You have all the money in the world, you just had to fly your private jet in and be there!"
"Things aren't that simple," he says.
"It is! She needed you. She asked for you. You weren't there."
I want to hurt him. I want to make him feel the way I felt when he walked out that door. I want him bleeding from his heart like my own still bleeds for what we were. I thought I could ignore it, push it aside and let something new take its place. How wrong I was.
Ben rises from the table both hands resting before him. He stares down at his plate not even glancing at me. His right index finger traces that pattern on the table cloth.
"We have an early morning, you should retire for the night."
He turns and walks out of the room without another word. I watch him go and realize I have nothing else to say either.