He nodded, unable to voice the words even though they were being communicated anyway.
“The other day… You think… You think that my breakdown was because you’d let me down in some way?”
He nodded again.
“No, Ben, no.” Her voice became scratchy, meek.
Ben looked up, expecting her to burst into tears, but instead she was smiling and staring straight at him as she spoke.
“I am so happy for you and Summer. It just made me miss what I once had with your father. I know it’s awful to be jealous of you, to be jealous of my kid, but we both know I’m not the best person—or the best mother—anyway.”
Ben knew he should argue here, but he was tired—much too tired.
“I don’t regret what I had with your father,” she continued. “Even when love hurts, it’s still worth feeling. Don't take the weight of all my problems onto your shoulders. I’ve already ruined my own life. The last thing I want is to ruin yours too, okay?”
“I don’t need your help to ruin my life, Mom. I’m managing to do it just fine on my own.”
“Well, if you change your mind, you know where to find me.” She gave him an awkward side hug then left.
Yes, I know where to find you—passed out drunk on the couch.
Sure enough, a few moments later the unmistakable sound of a wine cork popping filled the otherwise silent house. Ben knew then more than ever: it didn’t matter how much he or anyone else wanted them to, some things would never change.
Summer’s phone broke her out of a dead sleep. Buzz, buzz, buzz.
Who the heck would be calling at this hour? She groped around on her nightstand until she clutched the rude device in her hand, then pressed the button on her touch screen to answer the call. The time only read ten-something and she’d gone to bed more than a couple hours ago. Ben calling.
“Hello?” she answered, doing her best to sound chipper as she smoothed her bedhead. Wait, this is the phone, he can’t see me.
But the voice that greeted her didn’t belong to Ben. “Summer?” said a woman whose voice she couldn’t quite place.
Ben’s mom. It has to be Ben’s mom. Who else would be calling from his phone?
“Yup, it’s me. Is this Susan?” She did her best to hide her disappointment, but judging by Susan’s reaction it came through crystal clear.
“Yeah.”
Summer waited for her to say more, but the line stayed quiet. “Is everything okay?”
Susan sighed. Summer tried to figure out whether her caller had been crying or if she’d just had too much to drink, but it was hard to tell the difference with Susan.
“No,” Ben’s mother said, then sighed again.
“Oh my gosh! Did something happen to Ben? I’ll be right over.” Before she could stop them, the most vivid and horrible images filled Summer’s head—Ben lying bandaged and broken in a hospital bed, Ben having run away, Ben lying on the side of the road in a ditch somewhere, Ben—no, she couldn’t bring herself to think that last one. It was too terrible.
“No, no, it’s not like that,” Susan assured her.
Summer wished Susan had started the conversation by letting her know everything was all right. Now she felt more than a bit angry at the needless drama. She waited for Susan to explain herself, but she didn’t offer more. “Does he know you took his phone?”
“No.”
“Did you call me by accident?”
“No, I meant to call.” The words were slurred, answering Summer’s earlier question. Susan had been drinking—lots, from the sound of it.
“What do you need?” Summer asked impatiently. “I was sleeping, you know.”
Susan wailed in response—a full-bellied, anguished cry of pain.
And Summer immediately felt guilty. “Whoa, whoa, it’s okay. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—”
“I can’t even do this right,” Susan sobbed.
“Do what? Please tell me what’s wrong.”
“Everything is wrong. Ben is a good boy. He deserves good things, but he’s never gotten them. Because of his brother, because of me.”
So this was about something, about Ben. “Yes, I like Ben very much and he does seem to have a… complicated life, but you can’t blame yourself for that.” Even as she spoke the placating words, she knew it was a lie. Susan probably did as well.
A brief silence fell between them again, but this time Susan pressed forward toward whatever the goal of this conversation was. “You do, though? You really like him?”
Now Summer sighed. “Of course I do. Susan, I’m confused. What’s this about? Do you need me to come over?”
Having found her courage, Susan’s words now came out quick and enthusiastically. “Will you come out on a date tomorrow night? If I set it up, will you come?”
“You want me to cook dinner again? Sure, I guess I could do that. What time should we—?”
“No, not all of us. Just you and Ben. Will you have dinner with him tomorrow night? A date?”
“At your house, or…?” Summer let the question linger. While she wanted to go out with Ben more than anything, it felt odd to have his mother spring it on both of them as a surprise. He hadn’t returned her calls for a reason, after all—whether or not she knew what that reason was.
“No, I’ll make a reservation at Ernie’s. He doesn’t know I called, but I can get him there at six. Will you be waiting?”
“Umm, sure, I guess.” Summer was too shocked to disagree. Besides, she really did want to see Ben. She only hoped that he would be happy to see her too and that tomorrow’s “date” wouldn’t end in complete disaster.
Chapter 17
It had not been a good day for Ben. A group of teenagers had decided it would be funny to trash aisle four, and he’d needed to stay well past quitting time to clean up after them. By the time he reached home—almost an hour later than expected—he just wanted to crawl into bed and sleep his misery off.
Unfortunately, his mother seemed to have a different idea as to how he should spend his evening. She was stuck on him like glue from the moment he stepped in the door. “Hi, Ben. Did you have a good day at work?”
“No. I just want to go straight to bed. Good night.”
“No bed for you, young man.” She laughed in a way that was uncharacteristic of her—almost giddy.
“Anyway, your awful, no-good, terrible day is about to get a whole lot better. Here.” She thrust a freshly ironed shirt into his chest. “Put this on, and wear your good pants. The black ones.”
“Mom, I—”
“Hush, not a word. Just get ready. Go, go!” She shoved him toward his room, still way too chipper for his liking.
“But—”
“Nope, go put that on. Then we’ll talk.” She crossed her arms, and that was that. The issue wasn’t up for further argument, apparently.
Ben had always been a good son. He’d honored his mother, respected her—even when she didn’t deserve it. So he did what he was told, reminding himself all the while that her being happy was a good thing, something he should fight to preserve, no matter how much she annoyed him.
He fished his good pants from the bottom drawer of his old dresser and smoothed them out, then buttoned up the freshly ironed shirt and tucked it into his waist band. There. Now what?
Susan gasped and then laughed again as he returned to the hallway where she stood waiting. “Well, don’t you look handsome? You’d do well to dress up more often.”
“And why am I dressed up, exactly?” He looked over his mother who was wearing an old bathrobe and flannel pajama pants that didn’t quite meet her ankles. “And why aren’t you?”
But Susan’s train of thought had taken a nostalgic detour. “You look just like your father when we first met, oh!” She suddenly snapped out of it. “But I won’t go any further down that road, you hear? Besides you need to get going before you’re late!”
“Late? Mom, I don’t understand what you’re up to, but please, for both our sakes, just stop.”
He began to undo the top buttons of his shirt, more than ready to replace it with a more comfortable ensemble.
Susan slapped his hands away from his collar. “You should watch how you talk to me. I’ve done you a favor. Now go to Ernie’s. Reservation’s at six.”
Ernie’s just happened to be the most expensive restaurant in town—the only expensive restaurant in town. He’d eaten there once in high school maybe, but as an adult he preferred to spend his hard-earned money on more practical things, like electricity or the mortgage payment. “And how are we supposed to afford this? And, Mom…? Wait, is this about Summer? You didn’t!”
His mother shook her head and pressed a crisp one-hundred dollar bill into his hand. “Don’t ask, just go.”
“Fine, I’ll go. But only to apologize. You’ve gone too far this time. I told you I didn’t need your help, and you—”
“Ben?”
“What?”
“Shut up, and go get your girl.”
Summer sat waiting at a table for two that overlooked the rolling hills of the cider mill. The pretty cloth that covered the table was embroidered with lace, and everything else about the place felt fancy and old-fashioned too. She watched the people come and go, most of whom she didn’t recognize in the slightest—although she thought she spied one of Maisie’s brothers across the small, well-kept dining room. Closer by, a middle-aged African American couple clinked champagne glasses together and stared lovingly into each other’s eyes.
Would this be her and Ben twenty-odd years from now? Celebrating the anniversary of their first official date at the place that had started it all? She wanted it to be so, but she also had no idea what the next two months would bring, let alone the next two decades. Oh, she needed to figure that out soon.
Hopefully tonight would prove a nice distraction from the looming sense of dread at having to finally choose a path for her life. Hopefully, too, Ben would be glad for his mother’s interference and things wouldn’t be awkward between them as they shared a gourmet meal. Hopefully, hopefully, hopefully…
All she had these days was hope—hope that she’d make the right decision about her future, hope that she and Ben could find a way to make things work despite it all, hope that her life would end up better than her mother’s had.
That was when Ben turned up, right as Summer was compiling her mental list of one hope after another. He’d dressed himself nearly identically to the wait staff in his dark slacks and white, buttoned shirt, but he lacked their confidence and poise. She liked that very much about him, actually—how real he always seemed, how uncorrupted. Summer lifted her arm and waved to him, hoping—yes, again with the hope—that the gesture wasn’t too uncouth for such a ritzy establishment.
The motion caught his eye and he turned toward Summer then froze, not like a deer in headlights but rather like a man who’d set his eyes on exactly the thing he wanted and now had to pause to take it all in. And in Ben’s case that thing was her. No one could mistake the sparkle that played in his eyes for anything but love. Love, eek! His eyes said all the words he hadn’t been able to bring his lips to speak.
Since he still didn’t move, Summer stood and walked over to him instead.
“Fancy meeting you here,” he said.
“Fancy is right.” She laughed. “Care to join me at our table?”
“I knew I was forgetting something.” He laughed too as he held out his arm to her, and together they took their seats. He even pulled out her chair like a proper Southern gentleman.
“You look so beautiful tonight, I almost forgot how furious I am with my mother for going behind my back like this.” He smiled, then frowned immediately. “I’m so sorry about that by the way.”
“Don’t be. I was a bit embarrassed at first, but now I’m just glad to be here together.”
“Welcome to Ernie’s,” the waiter said, having chosen exactly that moment to attend to his new diners. “My name is Tobias. I’ll be taking care of you this lovely evening. To start, I have some of our famous Bavarian salt bread for the table. May I interest you in our house Pinot Grigio?”
“No!” Summer and Ben answered in unison, then broke apart in a fit of giggles.
The waiter smiled, but did not join in the laughter. “Very well. I’ll be back to take your orders once you’ve had time to review our specials.”
“Do you know him?” Summer asked, spreading homemade butter across her roll.
“Never seen him before in my life.”
“But it’s a small town and he looks about our age. Wouldn’t you have grown up together?”
Ben shook his head. “He probably went to the private school in Garnet Hills. Anyway, I have something a bit more important I’d like to talk about. If that’s okay?”
Summer motioned for him to continue as she bit down into her crazy delicious piece of bread. German food. Who knew it could be so divine?
Ben cleared his throat, took a quick drink of water, then continued. “So I have no idea what my mother actually told you, so please could you let me know…” His cheeks flushed as he lowered his eyes toward the table then looked up again. “Is this another friend date, or…?”
She did her best to keep her face neutral. She wouldn’t answer his question until he could answer one that had been bothering her these past several days. “Why didn’t you call me back?”
“What?” Ben frowned. It transformed his entire face in a way she didn’t like, but she also needed to know why he’d avoided her until now.
“We had a good time that day at the Cider Mill. Didn’t we? And then after Sunny Sunshine escaped, I thought you’d come back to… But then you didn’t call and you didn’t return my calls, and I just didn’t know if—”
“Summer, stop. I’m sorry.”
“You don’t have to apologize,” she offered. “I just want to know why.”
“Yes, I do have to apologize. I really am sorry. Disappearing like that wasn’t fair of me. I just got worried.”
“About?”
“Worried that maybe I like you too much.”
“Well, did you ever stop to think that maybe I like you too much too?”
The smile returned to his face once more. He looked so handsome, so happy in that moment. “So it’s not a friend date.”
She lifted her water goblet and clinked it to his. “To our first date date,” she toasted. And in that moment, she was glad they’d passed on the wine. Because she knew she’d want to remember this perfect evening for a long time to come.
Chapter 18
Summer had returned, or rather he’d returned to her—and now Ben just couldn’t stop smiling. He continued to smile even as his cruel inner critic tried to convince him otherwise.
It would be better if you just left well enough alone. She’s got enough going on in her life already, and she doesn’t deserve to be saddled with all your problems on top of it.
No, he needed to get out of his head. To stop analyzing every moment and focus on living them instead. There’s a beautiful girl here that obviously likes you, he reminded himself, realizing then how much he sounded like his mother—or at least the sober version of her.
And it would be better if—
No. It wouldn’t. I was on the brink of taking the same road Stephen took. I asked for a miracle, and now here she is. Ben needed to stop talking to himself and start talking to Summer again.
He reached across the table and took her hand in his. “I’m sorry if I’m being rude,” he said. “I just get a little lost in my head sometimes.”
She rubbed her thumb in circles over his and smiled at him reassuringly. “Got the angel and devil on your shoulders?”
“I’m not sure I follow...”
“Like in the cartoons,” she explained. “The good and bad sitting on your shoulders whispering advice to you.”
He laughed at how well she already knew him. “Yeah, something like that.”
“Well, I hope they’re saying good things about me. If they’re not,
you better kick their butts into gear and tell them to be nice.” She winked at him before taking a slow sip of water from her crystal goblet.
“Actually, they were just suggesting that maybe we should take advantage of having the whole evening laid before us rather than saying good-bye.” He looked down at his desert plate scraped clean of the cheesecake that had once sat upon it. Dinner had shot by in a flash. Every moment had felt perfect, even the moments he’d spent arguing with himself in his head. There was no longer any argument against being with Summer. Even his inner critic knew that this was right.
“Are you trying to ask me something, Ben? If so, just ask it. You know I’ll say yes.” She batted her lashes flirtatiously, and he fell even harder for her in that moment.
“Okay, okay. I… Summer, would you like to accompany me to…um. Shoot.”
They both laughed, and she squeezed his hand which still held firmly onto hers. He didn’t ever want to let go.
“I guess I didn’t think that question all the way through. How about we walk to, to, uhh…”
“C’mon, Ben,” she urged kindly. “You’re the one who lives here.”
“I’ve got it! How about we go back to the Cider Mill since you enjoyed it so much the last time we were there? Want to?”
“Yes.” She stood before he could pull out her chair for her.
Ben dropped the one-hundred dollar bill his mother had given him onto the table without bothering to wait for change.
Luckily, the restaurant overlooked the cider mill’s vast and beautiful park, so they didn’t have far to walk before they reached their destination. In the distance, moonlight glinted merrily off the dark lake. Did this setting always look so beautiful, or had Ben’s entire outlook changed, thanks to the dream of a woman walking beside him?
Whatever the reason, he liked the outcome. He liked feeling happy, hopeful—almost free in a way. And he had a pretty good idea Summer felt the same way just now. Continuing to stare at the horizon as they walked, Ben reached over and felt for her hand.
As her fingers tangled with his, he felt a weight he hadn’t even realized he’d been carrying rise into the air and float away. Now he was free.
Love's Prayer (The First Street Church Romances Book 1) Page 10
