Chapter 13
“Thanks, Dad.” Benjamin walked out the door with his father, who had come over to Summer’s to help with the funeral plans.
The sun had tucked itself behind the surrounding mountains, and Benjamin wasn’t sure whether he was relieved that this long day was over or afraid it would only usher in an even longer night.
“Of course.” Dad stopped and rested a hand on Benjamin’s shoulder. “I’m so sorry you’re going through this. But I’m proud of the way you’re handling it.”
Benjamin shook his head. It didn’t feel like he was handling it well at all, at least not on the inside, where doubts and fears and worries had swirled all day.
“Listen, does Don still practice law? It looks like Summer is going to need a lawyer to help her get guardianship of Max.”
Dad nodded. “He does. Do you want me to give him a call?”
“Nah. Give me his number and I’ll call.”
Dad pulled out his phone and sent Benjamin the number. “And this is why I’m proud of you.” Dad eyed Benjamin. “You’re stepping up and helping Summer and Max through this, taking care of details men twice your age often haven’t had to take care of yet.”
Benjamin swallowed. He would give anything not to have to take care of these kinds of details either. But not if it meant putting them back on Summer.
“Make sure you take care of yourself too.” Dad stepped forward and pulled him into a hard hug. “I’m so sorry about TJ.”
Benjamin nodded, hugging his dad back. He wanted to pretend he was six years old again and a hug from his dad could fix everything.
When Dad finally let go, Benjamin got up the nerve to ask, “Do you think it would be okay— I mean, would it be wrong if I stayed here with them a couple more nights? I’ll obviously sleep on the couch and—” Ah, man, he felt suddenly like a teenager again, asking if he could have a later curfew. “I just don’t want to leave them alone right now,” he finished desperately.
“I think that would be a good idea,” Dad said with quick reassurance. “I’m not sure Summer is quite over the shock yet.”
Benjamin nodded. When he’d woken her after the drive from the courthouse, she’d hit him with such a smile that his heart jumped—and then he saw everything come crashing back in on her, as if she’d just learned of TJ’s death for the first time all over again.
She’d barely said a word throughout the funeral planning, deferring most of the decisions to Benjamin and Dad. The only thing she insisted on was that the casket be closed for Max’s sake.
Benjamin stood on the porch for a minute after Dad left, waiting for . . . he didn’t know what. Peace would be nice. Or comfort. Or some kind of certainty about what he was supposed to do next.
When none of those came, he went back into the house. Summer had been tucking Max in, and he headed down the hallway to see if she needed any help with that. But Max’s bedroom door was already closed, the faint glow of a night light peeking through the crack under it.
Benjamin nudged the door open just enough to see Max snuggled under the covers, already asleep. Sorrow and determination collided in his chest. He was going to make sure this little guy got to stay with his aunt, no matter what.
Silently, he pulled the door closed. Summer’s bedroom door was open, the lights off. So was TJ’s, although Benjamin couldn’t bring himself to look inside.
He moved to the kitchen to let Summer know he was going to run home and get some clothes and then be right back, but she wasn’t there. He glanced around the space, as if she must be hiding. It wasn’t a large house, and if she wasn’t in the bedrooms or the living room or the kitchen, he didn’t know where she could be.
His eyes fell on the patio door that led to the backyard. It was dark out there, and he couldn’t make out any figures, but he opened it anyway and stepped out onto the deck.
“Summer?” he called softly into the dark, scanning the small yard.
“Yes?”
It took a moment for him to realize the voice came from a hammock that stood in the yard, next to the stairs that led off of the deck.
He treaded softly down the steps and stood next to it. She didn’t turn her head toward him but seemed to be focused on the sky.
“What are you doing out here?” he asked.
She blinked but still didn’t look at him. “Trying not to think, I guess.”
He puffed out a breath. “Let me know how that goes.”
“Not well.” She sat up and swung her legs to the ground, turning sideways so that she was sitting on the hammock more like it was a chair. “Want to sit?”
Benjamin eyed the contraption dubiously. It was faded and worn through in spots, and he had his doubts that it could support the weight of two people.
But Summer looked so alone and small sitting there . . .
He sat carefully, leaving enough room between them that their skin wouldn’t brush, even though he wanted nothing more than to pull her into his arms and promise he would protect her.
The hammock swayed a little but held up, and Benjamin let himself lean into it so that it supported his back.
If it weren’t for the circumstances, this could be a perfect night. The air was still but not oppressive. The tree frogs and crickets sang in harmony, and a million stars blinked down at them.
He shook his head, making the hammock rock lightly.
“What?” Summer asked. He felt her turn toward him, but he kept his eyes on the stars.
“I was just thinking this would be a beautiful night, if it weren’t for . . .”
“Yeah.” Summer sighed softly. “I’m not sure if there will ever be another beautiful night again.”
“I’m sorry.” The words that had been suffocating his heart all day whispered out. “I should have gone with him. If I had been there—”
Summer’s fingertips brushed his arm, the touch so light and fleeting that he would have thought it was the breeze if there were one.
“It’s not your fault.” Her whisper floated between them. “I shouldn’t have said that yesterday. I don’t blame you. I blame . . . God, I guess.”
Benjamin swallowed. He felt like he should say something about that, something profound and deep and encouraging. But the truth was, he blamed God a little bit too.
But that seemed too awful to admit. He was a Calvano, a pastor’s son. He wasn’t supposed to have doubts.
“Anyway,” Summer continued softly, “you’ve been nothing but helpful. So thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” Slowly, carefully, he slid his hand into hers, holding his breath until her fingers closed around his. He prayed the connection brought her as much comfort as it did him.
“I used to think,” she said quietly, “that TJ was the one person who would always be there for me. No matter what else happened or who else didn’t want me, he always would.”
“I know.” Benjamin tightened his grip on her hand. “But I’m going to be there for you now. And for Max.”
“Benjamin—” Summer started, but he wasn’t going to let her argue the point.
“It’s the least I can do for TJ,” he added.
Summer’s exhale filled the space between them, but she fell silent, and Benjamin felt like he’d won that point at least.
“You know,” she said after a while, “I don’t think I ever knew you had a serious side before.”
Benjamin snorted. “Yeah, well, don’t let word get out. It would ruin my reputation.”
Summer’s laugh was quiet but genuine, and he wanted it to continue, so he pushed his feet against the ground to set the hammock swinging.
“Ah, Benjamin, don’t,” Summer shrieked, but the movement had achieved the desired effect of extending her laughter.
“Don’t what?” he asked innocently.
“It’s going to—”
But Summer’s words were lost as the fabric of the hammock gave way, spilling them onto the ground in a tangled heap.
“Break,” she finished, her face so close to Benjamin’s that he could see the barely visible freckles that dotted her nose.
The situation was so absurd that a laugh burst out of him.
“So much for your serious side.” Summer’s laugh mingled with his, and they lay there in the moonlight, laughing until they were both gasping for breath.
When they finally fell silent, they both stared up at the sky, and Benjamin couldn’t help but think that maybe everything would be okay after all.