33. Ben
Ben
You were born a lawyer,” his brother, Jonah, used to joke. He didn’t exactly mean it as a compliment, and Ben didn’t take it as such. He understood what Jonah was getting at.
Ben was an exacting person. Even as a kid he’d always liked a good debate.
And when he debated, he was ruthless about facts.
There was certainty in facts, just as there was certainty in the legal evidence he gathered to support his claims and defend his clients.
Ben hoped for fairness, but believed in justice.
The trouble was, there was neither of those things in love.
Since taking leave to return to Chatham, Ben had found himself falling back into old habits.
He wasn’t okay with that. Because facts were facts: he lived and worked in Rhode Island, and his time here on the Cape had an end date.
No matter the unexpected things that had awaited him back in Chatham, or the return of feelings he’d not entertained in years.
He had a commitment to a client and a contract with his firm.
And an apartment and friends in the city. Those were the facts.
Timing was a funny thing, as Holly had said at the Squire.
Ben had always thought of it as a deciding factor, and maybe that was lazy of him.
It was easy to blame things working out—or not—based on timing.
It released the people in question from having to do anything differently. It let them off the hook.
Here he was, thinking how unfortunate the timing was for him and Holly to have reunited.
Now, when he was straddling two states and two jobs at the same time.
Now, when she was just taking over a family business, and all on her own.
Both of them consumed, completely, by their commitments to work and family.
And yet, in the midst of all that turmoil, they’d still found their way back to one another.
Even if their time had been limited, their connection was strong, the feelings abundant.
Ben could not recall laughing as hard or feeling desire as strong at any point during his marriage with his ex-wife as he had these last few weeks.
With Holly, it was simply there. All of it. Wasn’t that what it was all about?
His bags rested in the back seat of his car as he drove up to Cranberry House.
He would not be able to stay for the grand opening, as he’d hoped.
The upcoming trial demanded he return and slog through the weekend.
Holly had taken the news coolly, her mind understandably forced to focus on other things.
Still, he needed to see her before he went.
The lobby was quiet as he walked through.
An older couple sat in the parlor, seated at the chess table by the window.
A mom with two kids sat outside on the patio, eating lunch.
From the kitchen came the pleasant clatter of prep work and the smell of something sweet, reminding him of the childhood birthday cakes his mother used to bake.
They must all be back in the library, Ben thought.
Only no one was there. The library was set up for the event, tables of crisp new books for sale displayed all throughout the room.
There were twinkle lights strung between the bookcases, and warmly lit paper lanterns hung from the vaulted ceiling.
There was a bar cart and sparkling glassware and a long white table draped in linen probably awaiting whatever confection he’d smelled baking in the lobby.
She’s done it, he thought, taking it all in.
Ben needed to get on the road, but he couldn’t go without saying goodbye. Back out in the lobby he found Linus. “She’s not here,” he said, reading Ben’s mind.
He’d texted Holly that he was coming. Was she avoiding him?
“Can you tell me where she is?” Ben ventured. It was still unclear how Linus felt about him, and very clear how he felt about Holly.
Linus cocked his head, as if weighing outcomes. Just as Ben was about to walk away, he said, “The beach.”
Ben raced down the old wood stairs, something he’d not done in years. At the base, he looked up and down the strip of beach. Guest lounge chairs and umbrellas were set up, several of them taken, but none by Holly. There was no choice but to kick off his shoes, and start walking.
From here, Ben could see his parents’ house nestled atop the rocks across the cove.
How many times had he taken the Boston Whaler or the row boat across to come here?
A few paddle boarders snaked the shoreline where the water was calm.
In the distance a yellow-and-white sailboat whipped across the water, where it was choppier.
Ben’s parents still had both boats, but it hadn’t even occurred to him to take either out all summer.
He thought about this as he continued up the sand.
Midway up the strip of shoreline, there was still no sign of Holly. The public beach was up ahead, dotted by sunbathers and swimmers. If he kept going, he’d reach the other side.
He’d just turned back when he spied her, sitting on an overturned kayak, by the dune grass. She was wearing a wide-brimmed sun hat and reading a book. He should’ve known.
“Holls,” he called.
She looked up.
“You hiding from me?”
“What time is it?” She looked at her phone and hopped up. “Oh God. I need to get back. Come on.”
“I came to say goodbye,” he said, keeping pace as she rushed up the beach.
“I know, sorry. I lost track of time when I came down to take a break. Before things get crazy.”
“Crazier.”
“You’ve no idea. We had the food critic last night,” she told him.
“The one from the Globe? That’s incredible.”
“Well, let’s see what she says first. Reviews come out on Mondays. So, I finally heard from my grandmother, who still won’t come by but has at least shared her reasons. Oh, and I talked to my mother.” She was babbling and filling the space between them, avoiding looking him in the eye.
“Holls.” He stopped, and waited until she did, too.
“What?” She looked impatient.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry I have to go home, and I’m most sorry to not have more time with you.” He let this sink in. “But I will be back.”
Holly dug her toes in the sand and looked into the distance, something she’d always done when upset. “Remember when you used to sneak out and row across the cove at night, and come get me?” She nodded out to the water.
“I was just thinking about that,” he admitted.
She looked up at him, her eyes glassy. “I think that’s how I want to remember things.”
It was not what he wanted to hear. “Look, I’ve been thinking about this, and I know the timing is tough for both of us, but like you said the other night at the Squire, timing can work both ways. Friend or foe. We can make it work for us.”
“Ben, stop. I’ve been thinking, too.”
He felt the weight of what she was about to say. “And?”
“We have a history together that’s forever. It’s not going anywhere, and nothing can change it. I treasure it, more than almost anything.” She paused. “But I think we’ve proven that it’s best left there.”
Ben stared back at her in disbelief. “Providence is two hours away. We could try seeing each other, long distance.”
“And you have a house and a job and a life there.” She nodded toward the inn. “While mine is here. I don’t think either of us is changing that, are we?”
He shook his head ruefully.
“Long distance is just killing time before one person or the other moves,” Holly told him.
“If neither of us is planning on that, what are we doing?” She was biting her lip now, and he understood.
She’d thought hard about this, too. She didn’t want it to end any more than he did.
And yet what would they accomplish by keeping it going if nothing else changed?
He took her hand, and she let him, and they walked the rest of the way up the beach in silence. At the base of the stairs, Holly stopped and turned to him.
“I have spent the better part of my life loving you, Ben Walters.” Here, she started to cry. “And I want to remember you crashing through the waves, rowing across the cove, to come find me. Can you let me have that one thing?”
Ben felt his own lump developing in his throat. This time felt like a real goodbye, and he was unprepared.
“Can you, please?” she repeated.
Holly had gotten to him these last few weeks.
She’d slipped back into his thoughts and into his heart, a constant pull, like the tide between their houses.
“I can,” he said. Then he cupped her face between his hands and kissed her.
He kissed her the way he had the first time on this very beach, a slow uncertain kiss that barely brushed her lips, and then more deeply, a sweet sad promise passing between them as he did.
“But I won’t say goodbye to that summer girl,” Ben told her.
Then he kissed her cheek and turned for the stairs. With each step he climbed away from her, he got closer to the inn that had brought her home and would keep her here, just as it would in his memories.