by Rula Sinara
But that would mean he could screw up again, like last night. Emotionally scar them. He frowned and ran his hand back over his head. Coffee. He needed coffee.
“I, uh, don’t know what you mean by gel, but I have the other stuff for pain and fever.”
Of course he did. He wasn’t the best at fatherhood, but he did have the basics covered.
He took a chair from the table and put it in front of the fridge. He figured if, at six feet, even he needed help reaching the undersize cabinet over the fridge, it had to be the safest place to store medicine. Sure, there were child locks strategically placed on cabinet doors, like the one under the sink where the dishwashing liquid and disinfecting wipes were kept, but Maddie was old enough to open those. She was a smart cookie, but when it came to medication, he felt better having it out of reach.
He undid the lock on the top cabinet. Despite the height, he wasn’t skimping on safety. If any child could figure out how to scale the smooth surface of a fridge, it would be Chad. That kid would excel at the trials of the junior ROTC high challenge or rappelling and high tower courses. Someday.
“Here you go.” He handed down a plastic bin full of pharmacy items and got down.
“Here it is,” Hope said, pulling out a small dropper-capped bottle filled with pink fluid. She measured out the dosage and got Ryan to take it with minimal spitting. The last time Ryan had had a fever from some bug going around, Ben had carefully measured out the dose his doctor had prescribed and had a mini panic attack when half of it had come right back out and he’d had no way of knowing just how much. Corner of the mouth, side of the cheek, he noted to himself as he watched.
“There you go, baby,” she cooed. “You’ll feel better soon.”
Ben took the box of meds, locked it back up and returned the chair. Neither of them brought up last night.
“It really would help if you get a tube of gel—teething gel that numbs the gums—and perhaps a teething ring. The kind you put in the fridge is great. You may actually have a few teething rings from when Chad went through this.”
“I thought you had no baby experience,” Ben said.
Hope raised a brow. “Zoe has a lot of how-to books in the nursery. I trust it’s okay that I read them for Ryan’s sake?”
Direct hit.
“I’m going to check on Maddie,” he said, “and then I’ll see if he has teething stuff in his room.” Zoe had a few boxes stashed on the upper shelf of his closet, each labeled with an age and size range. Those he’d figured were hand-me-down clothes. One box said Toys, Etc… Maybe he’d find teething rings in there. If not, he’d head to the drugstore.
Ben knew it was Chad when he felt his leg tackled. He looked down. Chad had all fours wrapped around him as though he was pole climbing, only he hung his head back as far as he could. Almost upside down.
“Are you feeling better, Daddy?”
Ben rubbed the back of his neck. How was it that little kids, not a fraction of your size, had the ability to knock the wind out of you with words?
“Yeah, bud. You’re gonna break your neck.” He held Chad’s upper arm.
Chad laughed and let go with the other hand to salute him. If Ben hadn’t been holding on… The little daredevil.
“I wanna do some-ping,” Chad said, releasing Ben’s leg. He climbed onto a chair, then sat on the edge of the table.
Ben needed coffee. Would having some before looking in on Maddie make him a bad parent or a better one?
He grabbed a mug of coffee to take back with him.
“Let me check on your sister first. Then we can go in the yard.”
“Yes! Get your gear and get outside!” Chad said. He spoke in the tone of a four-year-old drill sergeant.
Ben froze with the mug halfway to his mouth. He glanced at Hope to see if she’d caught what Chad said. From the look on her face, she had.
That boy worships you, watches your every move and listens to every word you say. All of them do.
Ben took another gulp instead of acknowledging Chad’s marine lingo. He started down the hall, but doubled back.
“Last night… I’m sorry—”
“Don’t be. I’m in your home, not the other way around,” Hope said.
Except that it feels as though you belong here, and that’s what’s messing with me.
“It doesn’t matter. You’re here to help, and I… There are still some things I’m figuring out. I didn’t need to come down on you like that.”
“Thank you.”
Ben stared at his son, now sound asleep, drooling onto Hope’s shoulder. She ran her fingers lightly up and down Ryan’s back, seemingly not bothered by his leaky mouth. Ben pressed his lips together. He couldn’t figure out Hope Alwanga. She should have been dying to get out of his house after the way he’d lost it last night. He hooked his thumb toward the hallway and retreated without another word.
*
BEN MADE QUICK time of his shower that morning. He hadn’t wanted to waste anymore of the day, and he really wanted to check in on the Harpers and let the kids deliver their handmade cards to Eric by the evening. But first, he called and made an appointment with the last therapist he’d checked out—they’d had a cancelation for the late morning, and he’d taken it, which worked perfectly. Now with December underway, appointment schedules seemed harder to snag.
He’d made a promise to Maddie. The ultimate epiphany. The only way he could get her to leave her room. He’d promised to take her to get a pet. Just the two of them. A father-daughter thing. So the plan was, first the therapist, then the pet, then home to gather everyone else.
And now that the plan was completed, for the past fifteen minutes, all of them—Hope and the boys included—sat around the table staring at the fishbowl and single male beta fish.
“What are we supposed to do with it?” Hope asked.
“You watch it,” Ben said. “It looks nice. Fish are supposed to be relaxing. And Mads gets to feed it once a day.”
Maddie and Chad had their noses to the bowl.
“I think there’s poop coming out of its belly,” Chad observed. They all took a closer look. Yep, poop.
“Maybe you could draw pictures of it, Maddie,” Hope said. Maddie shrugged.
They all watched for another few seconds.
“Okay. Why don’t we carry it to your room, Mads? Find a good spot for him.”
Ben picked up the bowl just as Maddie scribbled on her notepad and held it up. The therapist today, a woman who seemed to know her stuff, had told Maddie not to hold back. That whatever she felt like writing was okay. No one would get mad. The message had been for him, too. He read what she’d written.
“That’s what you’re naming him?”
Maddie nodded.
Ben.
She’d named him after her dad. No doubt her way of letting him know that he was as boring as a fish.
*
BEN WALKED IN on Hope scrounging around in the drawer underneath the microwave. The drawer where he tended to stash his laptop and work.
“Looking for something?”
She leaped up with her hand on her chest.
“Oh. You startled me. Yes, Chad asked for some bathroom stationery. I have a crayon he can use, but I can’t find any more paper. We used the stack that was in the craft supply box yesterday for the finger painting.” She faltered slightly when she brought that up. “I think he must be constipated again and needs some entertainment while he’s in there,” she added, getting to the point.
“Bathroom stationery,” Ben repeated, deadpan.
“Yes.” She splayed her hands and dropped them. She’d given up on finding bathroom stationery. Ben started laughing. Uncontrollable, let-it-all-out laughter. Stress release.
“What’s so funny?
He shook his head and couldn’t get the words out.
“What?” Hope asked again, hands on her hips now, and clearly a little annoyed.
Ben walked over to a closet at the very end of the bedroom ha
llway. She followed, obviously curious as to why he was laughing. Man, he was going to have to tell Eric and Cooper about this. He pulled a roll of toilet paper out of the closet and put it in Hope’s hand, looked at her, then spewed laughter again.
Hope looked at the roll, then back at Ben and began to laugh, too.
Good thing Chad hadn’t asked her for “moon floss.” Ben had taken for granted that, over the years, Zoe had gotten used to the terms he’d used when he was on duty and then brought home.
The doorbell rang, and Ben went to answer it, still chuckling. It wasn’t until the second ring that he realized he wasn’t reacting to the doorbell the way he used to. No prickles, no nerves. He opened, still curious and not expecting anyone.
The nerves came back at first sight.
“What in hell are you doing here?”
Brie stood at the door with a golden dog in a service vest. He knew full well which dog. The one Zoe had signed them up for. The one he’d refused. And Brie. She had some nerve showing up here. His ears filled with pressure.
“Ben—”
“Go back to your pub,” he said. “We have nothing more to say to each other.”
“We don’t. But I’m here to see the kids,” Brie said.
“You’re not welcome to see the kids.”
Brie blinked and looked away, but didn’t move. She met his gaze again. “We need to talk, Ben. It’s been months. It wasn’t my fault. I cared about her, too.”
“Cared about her? I loved her.”
The dog looked at him, and Ben felt his chest cramp. Tears spilled from the corners of Brie’s eyes.
“Okay. If you need a scapegoat, someone to blame out of nothing but anger, you can keep blaming me, even if you know the facts and you know I wasn’t working that afternoon. I’m careful, Ben. Even more so now, but I’ve always been.” She wiped her face on her sleeve. “I haven’t seen Maddie, Chad or Ryan. I can share stories with them about their mom. Go ahead and hate me all you want, but let me try to help them. Especially Maddie.”
“I invited her,” Hope said from behind him. Ben knew they’d met. She’d been to Bentley’s. But Hope had invited the woman to his home, the woman whose bar had just happened to be the last place the drunk had been before he’d climbed into his car, pulled out and killed Zoe. Eating at Bentley’s was one thing, but becoming friends with the woman who used to caution Zoe about married military men who didn’t wear their rings?
He’d explained to Zoe that he didn’t because he if he was ever captured, he didn’t want anyone knowing he had a wife…or kids. Brie wasn’t privy to the details of what he did and where he went while on duty. She had no clue about the covert operations and level of clearance he really had. Yet she’d taken that peace of mind from Zoe. What kind of friend was that? What kind of friend kept running a business that served alcohol after a drunk killed her friend?
Ben looked at Hope.
“Do you know what she’s done?”
Hope shook her head. “I know what I went back and read from her copies of the police report and investigation. I know that the few words you said to a local newspaper reporter kept a lot of people from returning to Bentley’s. I know that Wolf there might be able to help Maddie, and that’s all I care about right now. Blame and anger can be destructive, Ben. Just stop and look at the kids. Look at yourself.”
Ben swallowed. He didn’t know how to let go of the blame or anger. It was the only way he had of avenging Zoe’s death. A death he could have prevented had he been the one to go to Bentley’s that day.
He looked at the dog Brie called Wolf. If he hadn’t refused the puppy, would Maddie have coped differently after the funeral? Was he indirectly responsible for her mutism? Was he as guilty as Brie in all this? Or was the point that neither of them were? He’d been blaming Brie for existing, for her pub existing, when Zoe’s death had been an accident. A tragedy. The kind of moment that led to the expression “live as if there’s no tomorrow…” Only he hadn’t been living or letting anyone around him really live. He’d been pretending. Surviving. There was a difference.
He covered his forehead with his palm and let go of the doorknob.
“Maddie and Chad can see the dog. I’ll be in my room.”
And he walked away.
*
HOPE PUSHED RYAN in his kiddie swing and watched as Brie introduced Maddie and Chad to Wolf. They remembered her. In fact, Maddie got excited when she saw Brie and ran to give her a hug. Hope wished that Ben had seen that. She wished he was out in the yard witnessing the change in his daughter’s face as she interacted with Wolf. And Chad… Wow… Chad was absorbing everything Brie was telling him about dog handling and how he needed to be calm and in control. Like the leader of a pack. Chad was acting as if he’d matured several years in a single hour. Wolf was an amazing dog.
She slowed Ryan’s swing, noticing his head drooping. Falling asleep while someone rocked you in a swing—what a life! She picked him up and cradled him as she continued to watch. A curtain opened on the second floor. The nursery. Ben was watching, too.
Hope hugged Ryan close and pressed her lips to his head.
Ben might never forgive her for asking Brie to come over, but Hope had no doubt she’d done the right thing. She’d thought Simba was nuts when he’d suggested she travel across the world to help with three children, and here she was, in love with them as though they were her own. At least when the time came to return home, she’d know that she’d made a difference.
That she could make a difference.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Dear Diary,
I love all animals, but a fish is no puppy. Daddy’s just plain weird.
HOPE SET THREE BAGS filled with Christmas presents for the Harpers and Ben’s children in the cargo area of Brie’s compact SUV. Brie added her bags and shut the door before letting Wolf into the backseat.
“Thank you for taking me shopping,” Hope said. “There is no way I could have taken all of this home on a bike.”
“No need for thanks. I enjoyed this. I’m always so stressed out this time of year. That takes the fun out of Christmas, you know? Especially this year, with Zoe gone. I appreciated the company,” Brie said.
They both climbed in, and Brie got the heater going right away. Hope buckled her seat belt before sticking her gloved hands under her thighs. The temperature had really dropped, even below what the weatherman said were December averages. Brie’s uncle was holding down the fort at Bentley’s so that Brie could get her shopping done. After that, they’d decided, since it was a Sunday, to close early so that he could head home and Brie would have a chance to put the tree up in the pub. Hope was looking forward to helping Brie, especially since the only decor her parents ever put up at Christmas was a very small artificial tree. The entire atmosphere surrounding the holidays here in the States was so different from back home.
Hope hadn’t had the chance to swing by Bentley’s in the past week since Eric’s surgery. For one thing, it was getting too cold for her to ride the bike. She’d tried the bus once, and it was okay, but Brie had brought Wolf over to the house one other time. Ben had actually stepped out onto the back porch that time and watched Maddie and Chad interact with Wolf for a few minutes, then when it began raining and they’d moved into the kitchen, he’d actually stayed there with them. It was a step forward.
Eric was getting better daily and wore a knee support to help, but he was still off his feet a lot, except for physical therapy exercises. He and Nina had been through a lot of changes this year—their son moving across the ocean, their daughter losing her life and their granddaughter suffering in silence, and now coping with Eric’s old knee injury. Which was why Hope really wanted to get them gifts.
And she’d gotten Brie one, too, although Brie didn’t know it.
“One of these days, you have to promise that you’ll come and visit Kenya and stay with me and my family,” Hope said.
“That would be the trip of a lifetime. One of these days,
” Brie said. “Are you still up for hot chocolate and tree decorating? I’d totally understand if you’re too tired. I can just drop you off at the house.”
“No. No. I’m good. The day wouldn’t be complete without getting that tree up. It’s so strange that everyone here gets them up so early. We only put ours up for a day or so before Christmas, then it comes down. I love how everything here sparkles for weeks on end. It’s so fantastical.”
“It really is. It can be crazy when you have a business, though. I can’t seem to keep up. Most restaurants and stores had theirs up before Thanksgiving.” Brie sighed as she turned into the parking lot for Bentley’s. “Sometimes I wonder if I’ll ever be able to compete with all the new places popping up.” She paused, looking straight ahead. “Or recover after what happened.”
Wolf let out a yelp.
“What’s up, boy?” Brie asked, turning toward the backseat.
Hope nodded toward Bentley’s entrance. Cooper was reading the closing-early notice Brie had made for her uncle to hang on the window near the door. Cooper began walking away with his hands tucked into the pockets of his winter jacket.
“He’s leaving. My uncle must’ve already put up the closing-early notice,” Brie said.
“Why don’t you get out and invite him in?” Hope said. “Hurry up.”
“I can’t do that.” Brie craned her neck to get a good look at him. Wolf whimpered. “I know you said it’s not me and he’s just reserved, but I don’t know.”
“Brie, you’ll never know if you sit until you freeze in place.” Hope jumped out of the car and waved. “Hi, Cooper!” He looked up, but didn’t seem to recognize her. “Hope. Ben’s friend. Thanksgiving.”
“Oh, yeah. Hey.” He waved back and started to walk on. Until Brie stepped out.
“Hey there,” she called out as she opened the back door for Wolf. “If there’s a closed sign on the door, it only applies to strangers. I’m not sure I can conjure up the usual, but I’m sure I can manage something.”
