6. Ben
BEN
I stiffened when I felt Clara peek around the corner of the living room where I was working.
“Dinner’s ready.”
I grunted in response, still trying to figure out what the hell to say to her after she so easily flung all my mistakes in my face.
No, I wasn’t the best husband, and I had slacked over the years.
I knew that. There wasn’t a single day I wasn’t reminded of how easy it was to love her in the beginning.
But somewhere along the way, we drifted apart.
I still loved her just as much as the day I met her, but something had shifted between us. We were no longer that young couple in love, and time had proved that more than anything else we encountered.
After cleaning up, I headed into the kitchen, sitting down at the table that was painfully silent. There were no kids tonight to break up the tension. Jeff had fled the premises and hadn’t returned, knowing it was only the beginning.
We didn’t fight often, but when we did, Clara held out until I apologized. It was always me. Why the hell was I always the one who had to apologize? Yes, what she said was true. It was also completely unnecessary for her to say. Did she really think I wasn’t aware of my failures as a husband?
As I looked at her from across the table, it was clear that she thought I was totally oblivious.
“Dinner looks good,” I said, hoping to break the tension.
“You’re welcome.”
I frowned for a second before I caught on to the barb. So, that’s how she wanted to play it.
“Thank you for this amazing meal,” I smiled, waiting until she looked up at me with hope in her eyes. “It’s greatly appreciated after I just spent hours tearing down a damn wall to expand this home that just two of us live in now.”
She dropped her fork and knife, letting them clatter against the plate. “Yes, it’s nice that you finally got up off your ass and did some real work around here.”
I smiled tightly at her. “Well, after thirty years of ranching, doing the hard, backbreaking work, it was nice to have a rest. But you’re right.
There’s a time for that, and it’s over. Now, I get to spend my days needlessly tearing apart a house I built with my father, all to please you.
And trust me, I’m enjoying every second of it. ”
She picked up her wine glass and took a sip. “Maybe once the kitchen is finished, you can learn to cook your own meals. After all, if I die before you, I hardly think you’ll be able to survive on chips.”
“Maybe one of my kids will take me in,” I grumbled, cutting into the steak.
“Highly unlikely, seeing as none of them is interested in taking care of another child.”
I slammed my fork and knife onto the plate, glaring at my wife. “Is that really how you see me?”
“Well, since you can’t cook, do your own laundry, clean the house, or do even the simplest thing for yourself, I would say yes.”
“At least I know the meaning of an honest day’s work!”
“You think it’s not work to take care of you? To raise those kids all on my own? To go to bed every night dreading the next day because you know you’ll just have to get up and do it all over again?” she shouted.
“It’s not like you were slaving away in the fucking cold!”
“No, just bringing in all the firewood to keep your feet warm at night,” she snapped before storming away.
I stared at my plate of food and sighed. “I really hope you’re coming to clean up the mess since your husband is too incompetent to do it!”
But the only response I got was the slamming of the bedroom door. I grudgingly finished my dinner, but the whole time, I kept staring at her food, hating that she left without eating a thing.
Why was I being such an ass? It was only a few months ago that she’d been poisoned and I was doing everything possible to take care of her. Now I was snapping at her and saying shit I didn’t mean.
If there was one thing I was certain of, it was that Clara was the one person holding us all together.
She’d worked her ass off over the years, making sure that each of us made appointments, had food in our bellies, and always had everything we needed.
Hell, there were times it was like she could read my thoughts, bringing me things before I asked for them.
So, I cleaned up, putting her dinner in a container for the night, before I headed up to bed. The lights were off and there wasn’t a sound aside from the light breeze blowing outside, rattling the wind chimes she loved so much.
I made quick work of getting ready for bed, then slid in beside her, wishing I could roll her over like I used to and kiss her until she made up with me. For a long time, if I made her angry, I’d just kiss her until she finally gave in and kissed me back, taking her anger out on me in other ways.
That hadn’t worked in a long time.
We always made up, but only with words. Her kisses and passion had died over time, along with that need that lingered in her eyes. After a while, we went from passionate kisses to cuddling at bedtime to a quick peck before we turned out the lights and went to sleep.
Sex became a routine, something that happened like clockwork on Saturday mornings. And over time, even that seemed like a chore. When the monotony became too much, I stopped trying, stopped touching her the way I used to, worried I would be met with irritation instead of passion.
Now, it had been at least a year since we last touched each other.
The bond between us was fading, and what should be the best time of our lives was becoming more of a challenge than an adventure. It was slowly killing me to see the woman I loved so much pulling away, refusing my touch. Any other night, I would just roll over and go to sleep.
But tonight, I couldn’t just let this go.
“We always said we’d never go to bed angry with each other,” I said quietly.
She didn’t say anything, but she did roll over and stare at the ceiling.
“I didn’t mean what I said. Hell,” I sighed, “You know that none of us would have survived all these years without you. You have to know that.”
I watched in the darkness, waiting for an answer, and when she finally gave one, I knew this argument was far from over.
“Maybe it’s not enough anymore.”
“What’s not enough?”
And when she didn’t answer, I found myself lying awake, wondering how the hell I was going to make this better before everything fell apart.
My breakfast was waiting on the table, but she was nowhere in sight. I stalked through the house, determined to make things right with her, but even when I looked in her new room, she wasn’t anywhere to be found.
Heading out to the stables, I snagged Jeff just as he was about to leave. “Have you seen your mother?”
Snorting, he shook his head. “I’m staying away from you two after yesterday.”
“It wasn’t that bad.”
“Are you kidding? I’ve never seen Ma so worked up over something. I mean, sure, she used to rail on us as kids, but with you?” He shook his head, walking toward the truck. “I think you need to apologize.”
Fury rushed through me before I remembered the whole point of finding her was so that I could say I was sorry. “I’m working on it.”
“See if she went to Lily’s house.”
“Lily? Why would she be over there?”
“Geez, Pop, do you not pay attention at all?”
Apparently not, because I had no fucking clue what he was talking about.
“Ever since Lily moved into the cabin on the old Callahan property, Ma’s been going over there to make sure she’s okay. You know something happened to her, right?”
I knew all too well about what was going on with Lily.
Well, the woman who called herself Lily.
I thought for sure she’d pass out just going to Ryder’s law firm for a job, and when she stopped by to say she got the job, I wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing. You never could tell with that woman.
But she’d been here for a while now, working at the office on a daily basis, and slowly, I could see her becoming friendlier with the folks in town. Not that she would ever strike up a conversation willingly, but it was a start.
What I hadn’t realized was that my wife was going over there all the time, and that really didn’t sit well with me. Mostly because she was a nosy woman, and I was afraid she would somehow get herself twisted up in Lily’s problems. That was the last fucking thing I needed to worry about.
“I’ll head over there and see if she’s there.”
“And don’t forget to apologize!” Jeff shouted as he got in his truck.
I waved him off, then got in the work truck and drove along the river, searching for any sign of my wayward wife.
As I got to the bridge, I slowed and waved at Liam as he walked out of his house, taking a seat on the front porch.
I didn’t bother going to talk to him. If Clara was there, I’d know it by now.
I headed over the small bridge to the house across the river, but the closer I got, the clearer it became that no one was home. Lily had a small vehicle, and it wasn’t in the driveway as usual.
While there, I checked out the property, doing a few small projects like checking the gutters and fixing the fence along the property line. I was just about to head back when John Callahan pulled up along the fence in his truck, putting me instantly on edge.
I didn’t realize he came out this far anymore, and I didn’t like the idea that Clara could have been over here when he was around. Not after what his son did.
But I didn’t back away as John got out of his truck and approached.
“Morning,” he called, raising his hand in the air.
His friendly greeting was more than just a little disturbing. It had been years since I trusted the man, and I wasn’t about to start today. I scanned his body for any signs of a weapon, but found nothing.
“How’s Clara doing?”
“Why the hell do you want to know?”
Tugging his hat off his head, he slid the rim between his fingers, staring down at it with a frown. “Ben, I know what my boy did to your family, and I’m sorry about that. But he’s in prison, paying for his crimes.”
“For a fucking year,” I growled at the reminder. “He deserves more than that.”
“Maybe so,” he nodded, tugging his hat back over his head to shield against the sun. “He hasn’t been right for a long time, and I’m not denying that what he did was wrong. I really just wanted to check on Clara, and I didn’t think I’d be welcome on your property.”
“So, you drove out here in the hopes of seeing me? Do you know how fucked up that is?”
“I didn’t drive out here to see you. I’m just checking the property like I do every week.”
“Shouldn’t your son be doing that?” I snapped.
Instead of getting rid of him, he took that as an opportunity to talk and rested his boot on the fence post. “Wyatt has his own life now. And with the store in town going downhill, I find myself with more free time. Besides, it’s hard to keep ranch hands when the work is dying.
Should have done what you did,” he chuckled.
“Then I wouldn’t be losing so much money. ”
“It’s not too late to turn it around,” I found myself saying instead of walking away.
“Might be for me. You have the boys to help out. I don’t understand all this business stuff. Ranching, I get that. Never was one with a business mind.”
I found myself understanding that all too well. His predicament wasn’t that far outside of what I had been going through for years as the boys took over, shifting our business into something I no longer understood.
“Maybe talk to Wyatt. See if he can help you figure something out. He always was a good kid.”
“Stubborn as hell,” he chuckled. “With one hell of a temper.”
“As I recall, it rivaled yours.”
“That’s true.” For the first time in years, I saw a hint of a smile on the old man’s face.
Old man. Fuck, he was the same age as me.
How long had we had this rivalry going between us?
It felt like years since there was peace between our families, and I was tired of always fighting every time I saw him.
I wasn’t sure things would ever be right between us again, but it wouldn’t hurt to try to bury the hatchet a little.
After all, he wasn’t the one who hurt Clara.
“I’ll see you around.”
He tipped his hat and turned around. But before he could leave, I found myself calling out to him.
“She’s doing good, by the way.”
He turned and cocked his head at me.
“Clara. She’s doing much better.”
“I’m glad. Truly.”
It was an odd feeling to not be pissed at just the sight of him. Then again, I could hardly remember what it was like to talk to him without snarling at him. God, I felt really old.
I was certain I would find Clara at the house when I got back, but Liam was the only one there, waiting for me to return so we could get started.
“Is Ma out shopping for more stuff?”
“Not sure.”
“You don’t know where she is?” he snorted. “That’s a new one. It’s been months since you’ve let her go anywhere without calling one of us to look out for her.”
“She was gone when I woke up this morning.”
“Huh. Well, Bailey said she’s on a kick. It’s gotta feel good, right?”
I was just about to start putting up plastic where we were going to rip down the wall when I paused. “What’s gotta feel good?”
“Seeing Ma so excited. She’s spent years looking after us. It’s good to see her doing something of her own.”
Why the hell was it that my son could see how happy she was, but it was only pissing me off? Jeff was excited, too. She was out spending money, asking me to rip down walls, and that was a good thing?
“So, you’d have no problem if Bailey wanted to tear down walls and basically throw your life into upheaval all because she wanted to be happy about something?”
My son stopped and stared at me in a way I’d never seen before, and it took a minute to realize it was something close to disgust.
“Pop, if there’s one thing I learned from you, through all the shit we went through, not getting along, and basically pissing each other off, it was that your family means everything.
So, yeah. If it made Bailey happy to tear down walls and do something that made her feel good about herself, then yeah, I’d do it all for her in a heartbeat. ”
“It’s fucking ridiculous,” I snapped.
“Is it?” He shook his head at me. “Pop, you’ve never been good with change. I think the real problem is that she’s found a way to make herself happy, and you’re still living in the past.”
“I am not,” I argued.
“Yeah? Then tell me the real reason you’re pissed about redoing the house.”
I couldn’t escape the way he glowered at me, practically begging me to give him a reason that didn’t make me out to be a world-class shit.
“I built this house with my old man—”
“That’s not an excuse. This house is beautiful, but that was years ago. You’re not tearing it down. You’re adding to it and making your wife happy. What the fuck is so wrong with that?”
“It’s my house!”
Chuckling, he got back to work. “Like I said, you’re not good with change, but Pop, you moved Ma in over thirty years ago. I think it’s time to let go of the notion that this house was ever just yours.”