Chapter 12
Mylie was waiting for Ben on the front porch when he got there. She was sitting on the swing, reading a book. She smiled when
she looked up and saw him.
“Hi,” she said.
“Can I sit?” Ben asked. He set the three dishes he’d chosen to bring over on the little table beside the swing.
Mylie nodded and scooted over to accommodate him. “So,” she said. “How are you?”
Ben sat down, careful not to get too close. He didn’t need a repeat of earlier when they’d barely brushed arms and he thought
he might need a cold shower. “I’m good. How are you?”
“I’m good.”
Silence.
Ben waited for her to say something, and when she didn’t, he said, “Do you remember that game we used to play where we asked
each other a question, and if the other refused to answer, we got to slap their hands?”
Mylie looked over at him. “Yeah, why?”
Ben held out his hands. “Let’s play.”
“I’m not twelve,” Mylie replied. Then, realizing Ben wasn’t kidding, she sighed and said, “Okay, fine. But I get to go first.”
She placed her hands under his and said, “What are you doing here?”
Ben cocked his head to the side. “At your house or Clay Creek?”
“Clay Creek,” Mylie replied. “I know why you’re at my house. You’re scared of Granny.”
“That’s true,” Ben acknowledged. “I’m here because I promised my mom I’d come back at least once before I sold the house.”
“Why are you selling the house?”
“It’s my turn,” Ben said, placing his hands on top of hers. “Are you mad at me for selling?”
Mylie stared at him, but she didn’t answer.
“Don’t make me slap your hands,” Ben warned her. “I’ll do it.”
“I’m not mad,” Mylie said, finally.
“Why do you sound mad?”
“It’s my turn,” Mylie replied. “Why are you selling the house?”
“I got a job offer on the East Coast,” Ben said. “At a university. I need the money to move.” Ben moved his hand. “Aren’t
we a little old for this game?”
“Maybe you are.”
Mylie moved her hands to the top. “How long are you going to be here?” she asked.
“I don’t know,” Ben said. “I haven’t decided.”
Mylie narrowed her eyes.
“One of the women who came over today said you had your own business,” Ben said. “Is it the one you always talked about?”
“Yes,” Mylie replied.
“That’s amazing,” Ben said, truly impressed. “I always knew you’d do it.”
“My turn,” Mylie said. She waited until their hands were touching once again before she asked, “Did you miss me?”
Ben looked at her. Her face was a mixture of defiance and uncertainty. It was the look she got when she was ready to fight someone or burst into tears. He’d seen it a million times, but rarely had she turned that look on him. It was unnerving. He grabbed her wrists so that she couldn’t squirm away from him and said, “Every single day for the last ten years.”
“Then why...”
Before Mylie could finish her sentence, the front door swung open and Cassie and another teenager stepped out. Ben let go
of Mylie’s wrists and scooted away from her.
Cassie looked at the girl, rolled her eyes, and then said, “Granny says to bring that food in before the flies get it.”
Ben hopped up. “Okay,” he said. “You probably don’t remember me, Cassie, but I’m Ben.”
“I know who you are,” Cassie replied. “Granny told me you used to throw me in the lake.”
Ben laughed. “You asked me to, and you always wore a life jacket.”
“This is Allie,” Cassie said, pointing to her friend.
“Hi,” Ben said. “Nice to meet you.”
“Yeah,” Allie replied. “You, too, I guess.”
Ben followed them into the house. It looked the same as he remembered, but some of the furniture had changed. It was the same
layout of his house, but it was cozier. That was probably because nobody but renters had lived in the house for a decade,
but he remembered feeling the same way all those years ago. There was just something about the Masons. They welcomed everyone.
“There you are,” Granny said when she saw Ben. “What did you bring me?”
Ben extended the dishes to her. “Uh, I think pasta salad, sweet potato pie, and brownies.”
“I’ll throw that sweet potato pie in the oven,” Granny said. “It’ll go perfect with this roast.”
“Thanks for having me,” Ben replied.
“None of that,” Granny said, waving him off. “Go on and find Morris. I think he’s sitting in the living room in front of the TV like always.”
Ben did as he was told and sat down next to an older man who was drinking a beer and watching a hunting show on the Discovery
Channel. The older man didn’t even notice.
Mylie came and sat down on the chair beside the couch and said, “Morris, you remember Ben Lawrence?”
Morris didn’t turn away from the TV but replied, “Of course. How are you, son?”
“I’m good,” Ben replied. “Thank you.”
They sat there in silence while Ben moved between trying to figure out how he knew Morris and wishing he could be alone with
Mylie again. They still needed to talk. He needed to know if she’d forgiven him. He needed to know if he could touch her the
way her eyes had begged him to do before they’d been interrupted. But those weren’t questions he could ask her in a house
full of people.
When Morris got up to replace his beer, Ben’s curiosity about the man won out, and he asked Mylie, “Why does he look so familiar?”
“He was our history teacher in high school,” Mylie replied. Then she scrunched up her face and said, “The Continental Congress
declared freedom from Britain on July second , not July fourth !”
“Holy shit,” Ben replied. “I can’t believe that’s him. I’ve never forgotten that lesson in our American History class.”
“Imagine your grandmother being his special friend ,” Mylie said, shuddering.
Ben laughed. “I’m so sorry.”
“I guess it’s not that bad,” Mylie replied. “He keeps Granny busy, and he’s nice to me and Cassie. Last year, he got me a book about the Revolutionary War for Christmas, because he said he remembered I got a C in his class when I was in eleventh grade.”
“His classes were hard,” Ben admitted. “I had to study more in his class than in all of my college history classes combined.”
“So, you’re a doctor now, huh?” Mylie continued.
“Yeah,” Ben said. “How did you know?”
“Well, I got a C in history, but I do know how to Google,” Mylie said.
“Creepy,” Ben replied. He was grinning at her, a wave of relief washing over him. She didn’t seem mad at him. She was talking
to him now just like she always had. He wasn’t lying before. He’d missed her. He’d missed this.
“Come on!” Granny hollered from the kitchen. “It’s time to eat!”