Redemption

by Brent, Amy

  “Jesus Christ, Ben, and here was me thinking you were the smart one.”

  To get out of the conversation for a while, I sauntered over to the jukebox and put some fresh songs on. Half the bands I hadn’t heard of until I spotted U2. Everyone knew U2. I tapped on the buttons, and not seeing very well I guessed them, mostly because the whiskey seemed to have begun working. I made my way back to the bar and felt like my lips were going numb. Before we drank any more, I made sure Paul wasn’t going to drive. He chuckled and said there wasn’t a cat in hell’s chance, which meant he agreed, I think. He’d been seeing double of me for the past hour.

  The bartender filled us up again and slid another bowl of nuts in our direction. I think he’d done it on purpose, just to get a laugh. He’d supplied us with shelled pistachios, and I was fucked if I could get the shells off.

  “Honestly, how do you feel about her? Lindsey. That is, and forgetting all the bullshit from seven years ago.”

  “Six,” I butted in.

  Paul laughed. “That’s what my brain said, six years ago. Fuck I’ve had a lot to drunk.” He laughed at his verbal error.

  “I can’t forget that time. I loved her then and I still do. I love Lindsey.” I raised my glass to make a toast and noticed that it was empty. I asked for another as “With or Without You” came out from the jukebox speakers. I turned to Paul and grinned. “It must be fate.”

  “I bet you’ve put ‘I still haven’t found what I’m looking for’ on too, right?”

  “I have no idea.”

  “Last drink gentleman, we’re closing up,” the bartender remarked. I looked over my shoulder, and even while seeing double, it was clear to me that the bar was almost empty.

  “You need to tell her how you feel now, or you’ll end up losing her,” Paul said. I downed my drink and stood. “Where are you going?” he asked, mumbling his words.

  “I’m going to tell her, right this oblivious minute.” I staggered from the bar, and the fresh air hit me like a cold steel wall.

  I was lucky it was a popular place because a cab pulled into the street. I slumped into the rear seat and mumbled the address of Lindsey’s apartment. It was a five-minute ride, and I found myself back on the pavement. The door was locked when I pushed it, so I pushed the doorbell—multiple times.

  “Lindsey,” I whispered into the intercom speaker. I waited for a reply. I pushed the buzzer again. “Lindsey, it’s me! Pssst.”

  I stepped back wobbling and saw a light come on from upstairs. I waddled back to the door and heard the speaker crackle. I pushed the button.

  “Lindseeeey,” I cackled.

  “Ben is that you?”

  Eeerrgh. The buzzer sounded, and I pushed the door open. I climbed the stairs, and two Lindsey’s stood there waiting for me. Like twins.

  I didn’t know you had a twin sister?

  “What do you want?” she asked, unamused.

  “I’ve got something to tell you. It’s important.”

  Lindsey said I smelled like a brewery and asked if I’d been drinking. My comment about wasn’t it obvious went down like a lead balloon. She ushered me into her apartment while I pulled at the zipper to take my jacket off.

  My fingers don’t work anymore. Fuck it.

  “What do you want to tell me at two-thirty in the morning?”

  “You were sleeping?” I mumbled, through numbed lips. I eventually sat on the couch and patted the seat next to me for Lindsey. “Here, sit with me, this is extraordinarily important.”

  I closed one eye while Lindsey sat next to me. This was for her ears and not her twin sister’s.

  I chuckled. “Have I ever told you I love you?”

  “Well, I love you too, Ben,” she replied.

  “Lindsey!” I yelped. “I. Love. You.”

  “You’re drunk.”

  “Yes, but I needed to tell you. I don't want to lose you.”

  “Are you serious?” she asked.

  “Yep, and I swear on Jacob’s life.”

  “Don’t swear on that. I believe you.”

  “So now you know. I love you to Neptune and back.” I held out my arms for a hug. Then, like magic, everything went black.

  Lindsey

  I pulled a chair from under the kitchen table and turned it around. I straddled it, resting my arms on the back with my chin on my arms. I watched him breathe and mumble. He stunk like a hobo, and he’d have a banging hangover if he ever decided to wake up. All I thought was he was lucky there was no camp today.

  Ben snorted when he half-snored and then lifted his hand up to rub his nose. He’d all but passed out after he’d said those words, which might come back to haunt him when he finally had his wits about him again. For now, he was going to suffer from what smelled like a belly full of whiskey. It was hard to believe that he was an expert in survival and unarmed combat training as I looked at him. Right now, he looked like a kid huddled under a checkered travel blanket with his shoes nice and straight at the side of the couch.

  Ben finally opened one eye, and I handed him a glass of water. I noticed his lips were cracked and guessed his throat would be drier than the desert. He pulled the blanket off and swung his legs onto the floor. He reached for the glass and looked around.

  “How the hell did I get here?” he asked.

  “You turned up out of the blue,” I replied, while he sipped lovingly on the water.

  He sat with his head in his hands and breathed heavily. He turned and looked at the blanket after he saw his shoes, the ones sitting perfectly straight on the tiled floor.

  “You covered me up?”

  “Well, you were in no fit state to do it yourself. You blanked out while asking for a hug.”

  “Did I? I can’t remember doing anything. Did I do anything else embarrassing?”

  I leaned back in the chair and looked deeply into Ben’s green eyes which were somewhat reddened. I wasn’t sure how it’d be best to break it to him about what he’d said, and he wouldn’t remember it, most probably.

  I told him anyway. “You told me you loved me.”

  I watched for his response. There wasn’t much to start with, apart from a sip of his water, and he asked if I had any pills or potions that might ease his suffering a little. His head was banging like someone was playing bongo drums with his skull.

  And whose fault is that?

  I pulled open the kitchen drawer and pulled out the plastic bottle. I tossed it to Ben who caught it against his chest. He popped the cap.

  “Do you remember anything?” I asked.

  “I was with Paul at the town’s Irish bar. We chatted and drank; and chatted and drank some more, and we ended up talking about you,” he said trying to get the pills out of the bottle. “That seems to be the number one topic of the moment.”

  He lifted his cupped hand and swallowed two pills while he thought of the previous night. He took a gulp of water and looked back at me.

  “Did I make a fool of myself?”

  “Now, it depends. If you swore your undying love for me, would that be foolish?” I made that part up. “And if you didn’t mean it, then yes. But, if you meant every word you said, then no, I don’t think you made a fool of yourself.”

  Ben looked back at me and sort of smiled. “I’m sorry. I must’ve woken you.”

  “It’s not a problem, but I still want to know what you remember.”

  “Singing, I was singing!”

  I asked if he had been singing in the bar because that would’ve embarrassed him. He wasn’t the best singer, and I knew that for certain. He replied it happened when he walked out from the bar. U2 came over the jukebox; I still haven’t found what I’m looking for. It was quite ironic that particular song came on, and he’d made his way here, to pour out his heart and then pass out on the couch.

  “Have you found what you’re looking for?” I asked, with a cheeky smile on my face.

  “I’m sure I’ve got an idea, and I’m almost there,” he replied, easily emptying the glass
of water into his mouth.

  I stood from the chair and asked if he could stomach a coffee. He nodded and hinted that extra strong and sweet would be awesome. I poured a mug and spooned in an additional two sugars. He stood and then sat at the dining table.

  I knew he might not want to go into too much detail, but at least we were alone and no chance of anyone interrupting. I needed to ask him for my own benefit as much as his. This crap which had gone on between us had all but ruined our lives so far. I’d practically become a nun and thrown myself into work, and Ben had been through a failed marriage and had ended up as a single parent. Not that I’d ever begrudged him for having Jacob. In fact, Jacob was the blessing in the whole debacle.

  “Tell me, Ben. Tell me again what it was you wanted to say to me.”

  Ben sipped from the mug, and I could see he was both uncomfortable and embarrassed. I also noticed he was going to finally open his mouth and say something.

  “I meant every word of it, even if I didn’t present it very well,” he replied. “And before you ask, I didn’t get drunk, just so I could say it. We were talking, and the alcohol happened, unfortunately.”

  I’m glad it did.

  “Which part did you mean?”

  “The I love you part. Actually, I’ve always loved you.”

  I hinted he was only saying it to make me feel better. He replied he wasn’t, and that it was the honest truth.

  “We should really talk about everything.”

  He looked into my eyes. “The cheating part, even afterward, I admit I hated you for doing it because I thought we were special, and even then, I still loved you,” he replied. “Hell, none of that matters, not anymore, it was too long ago.”

  Fuck you, Ben. It matters to me. I’ve waited six years for you to say something to me.

  “Ben, it does matter. I happened to learn one or two things becoming a therapist. You need to look at the past to see where you’re going. And if we don’t, we aren’t going to go anywhere with that night hanging over our heads.”

  Ben sighed. He knew I was right. He’d already said he had always loved me, so it was worth the effort. “What about your marriage? You can’t have been in love with me even then?”

  Ben huffed. “That was an attempt to get over you and look what happened. It failed, but I did get Jacob out of the bargain.”

  “What exactly were you told that night?” I asked. He didn’t answer me.

  It dawned on me; we’d wasted six years because of misinformation. God knows why he never questioned me about it, and instead just left. He said he loved me, but he made a piss-poor attempt at fighting for me.

  “Why didn’t you ask me?”

  He answered with one word. “Broken.”

  “What was?”

  “I was,” Ben replied. “I can’t talk about this right now.”

  “What’s different now? All this time you thought I cheated and it was all wrong.”

  I saw Ben was struggling with his hangover. Perspiration filled his brow, and I reckoned he’d puke at any moment. It would be great timing if he did, but not wanting to ruin what was so far our most fruitful conversation, I told him to go and freshen up. Some cold water on his face might make him feel better.

  Ben put his mug on the table and steadied himself while he walked to the bathroom. He closed and locked the door. I pictured him leaning over the sink and splashing water on his face while peering at himself in the mirror. He’d be standing there, now questioning himself about the whole thing.

  Did you mean it, Ben? Did you really?

  My heart fluttered while I waited for him to exit the bathroom. From the look and the sound of him, he could be a while trying to wash away the effects of his hangover. I stood and walked to the door.

  “There’s a spare toothbrush under the sink,” I called.

  I heard a mumble and the creak of the bottom door opening. I walked back to the kitchen and filled the mugs with coffee. I sat with my hands clasped around my cup and peered at the steaming black liquid. Was it true? Had Ben told me in all honesty what I’d waited six years to hear? Could we finally get our shit together and move on?

  What idiots we’ve been.

  The bathroom door opened, and Ben looked a lot better. His hair was still dripping slightly, and his hobo complexion had vanished. His shirt was still crumpled badly, but I wasn’t going to offer him the iron. I needed to know more.

  “Where were we?” I asked.

  “I know we’ve said a bit this morning, do you mind if I go home? My head’s pounding like I can’t even tell you.”

  I smiled and grabbed his jacket from the closet. I wished he’d stay and finally get this sorted, but I couldn’t force the issue.

  He laughed as he pushed his arm through the sleeve of his jacket. “Thanks for letting me crash,” he said.

  I cocked my head and smiled. “Sure thing,” I said, and he headed to the door. I didn’t see him out.

  I turned and headed to the bedroom. I was tired because I’d only had a few hours of sleep myself, and I needed to think about what was said. Wow, I needed to cast my mind back to six years ago.

  I heard the apartment door bang before I stepped into the bedroom. He was gone. I stood and looked at the crumpled bedsheets. I dived in and pulled my spare pillow between my legs. I curled up like a baby and closed my eyes. It was time to do some self-therapy and see if I could make sense out of it all. This was the last chance for Ben and me, and if it went wrong this time, it was goodnight from me, and goodnight from him.

  My room swam when I thought back to the night which set off the whole chain of events. Why Ben never questioned me properly, and why he was so sure I’d cheated on him was a mystery to me. Chad had really done a job of it. I still never knew why, but narcissism and jealousy seemed the likely cause. He had passed away from an autoimmune disease, so I couldn’t ask him, either. I noticed something, though. Ben told me he loved me and always had. I loved him, and I always had.

  Lindsey, you never fucking told him how you felt while he was sober.

  Crap.

  I’d missed my chance. It was me who’d screwed it all up this time. What the fuck am I going to do? I rolled over and kicked my legs in a tantrum. Last chance and I’d banged one of the nails in the coffin by not telling Ben.

  I’d always loved him.

  I love you, Ben.

  Ben

  I woke early, and my mind was whirring around on something. I wasn't great at emotional stuff, so it usually occurred when I was at a standstill or a crossroads. I tried to figure out what was going on, but my brain was acting like a blender stuck on the blending cycle. The constant noise was beginning to give me a headache.

  I had images of the past invading my thoughts, and a picture of me at Lindsey's the other night. I'd gone there for a good reason. It still went sour. Shit. Then my mind went to her beauty and how perfect she was when we were fully intimate with one another, that soft pink lace of her lingerie and the warmth of her body when we connected in a passionate embrace.

  I ran the shower; I needed to try to relax. My whole world wasn't crumbling in around me, and if it was, I still needed to try and get some clarity. I was a single parent, so I couldn’t have a meltdown. If I was feeling this way, then it meant that I did have genuine feelings for her. I loved her. I absolutely always had loved her. And back then, a little over six years ago, I'd still left. I’d left the woman of my dreams even though I loved her. Wow, that was a revelation that made me want to kick myself, hard, and in the backside about ten billion times.

  As the water penetrated my muscles, I felt a joyous sensation come to me. The feeling I felt when I was with her. Yes, the talking, the watching her smile, the listening to her voice. In reality, I loved it all. I craved her smell, her eyes, and her gorgeous body with all its curves. Fuck, I needed her like air. That's exactly how I was feeling about her. My guilt for leaving her all those years ago was beginning to creep up to the surface. I mean, I knew that I wouldn't have
Jacob if I hadn't left, so that was the blessing in all of it. But the hurt she must've felt. Fuck. She had coped with a lot. I'd left her out in the cold, and she couldn't even find me. I'd blocked her from being able to call me, and I'd left Estes Park to join the Navy SEALs.

  I felt extremely frustrated with myself. Why the fuck didn't I just talk with her? Sometimes, I thought of myself as a jerk. I mean, I went to see her to speak my truth, and then she wanted me to open up about the past. My head had been spinning because of a horrible hangover headache. It was so bad; I’d drunk way too much with Paul.

  I felt absolutely drawn to sorting this out with her. She wanted to clear up the damn past, so we could finally move forward together. Otherwise, it was a big, idiotic elephant sitting in the room all of the time, except when we were intimate together. I had to go and see her and sort it out. I hoped she wouldn't ignore me because that's what I really deserved.

  I got myself organized and drove to her camp. I got there at eight thirty, about a half hour before the camp opened. I pulled up the Jeep and saw a large sign that was written in red and black. “Camp Closed for 1 week beginning May 13 due to influenza. Thank you for your understanding. For further inquiries, please call Joanne.”

  Oh, okay. Does she have the flu, though?

  I wondered whether or not it was true. She seemed okay when I'd left her. I decided I needed to call her. It was the only thing I could think to do.

  I waited as the phone rang. It went to her voicemail, and I hung up without leaving a message. The whole thing felt weird. I still felt an intense pull to go and see her, as if something more was up with her.

  As it stood, I was already late for setting up the day at work. I'd have to get through the day and then deal with it. I just needed the strength to cope for that long. My whole life teetered on this one issue with Lindsey. If we could sort it out, then I'd be able to live my happily ever after.

  Maybe.

  Today is going to be the longest day of my life.

  I could feel how slow it would go, not being able to talk with her or see her for hours as I worked. When I arrived, Paul tapped his watch and gave me a jovial smile. But he knew how much I was going through, so he didn't push it.