by Wendy Owens
I drop the phone. Ben. I haven’t thought about him in so long. An accident. What does that even mean? He’s a mechanic. What could possibly land him in the hospital?
Reaching down, I pick up the receiver and tap the lever on the phone until I get a signal. Dialing the front desk, I ask them to connect me with my mother’s number. It’s the longest any phone call has ever taken to connect.
I try to speak when I hear my mother’s voice, but nothing comes out.
“Kenzie? Is that you?” she asks, not waiting. Again I open my mouth, but still nothing. She’s yelling now, “Kenzie?”
I swallow, and force my lips to move. “Is he okay?” My voice is shaking. I can feel my heart pounding in my chest.
“He’s alive,” my mother rasps out.
“What does that even mean?”
“It means he’s not dead,” she quips, angry now.
“Mom!”
“He was at work yesterday when a lift in the shop failed. He could hear the hydraulics giving out, so he tried to beat it, and it pinned him.”
“Are you serious?”
“Yeah, they said he’d be dead for sure if he hadn’t reacted as quickly as he did.”
“Oh my God, he’s been bitching to his dad for a year about that damn thing,” I huff and breathe a breath of relief. “At least he’s going to be okay.”
“Oh, sweetie—” my mom pauses.
“What is it?” My heart stops as the panic floods back in.
“He’s far from okay.”
“What do you mean?”
“He hasn’t woken up yet. There was internal bleeding— it’s just too soon to know.” It’s the most empathetic my mother has ever sounded, which makes the information sting all the more.
“To know what?” She doesn’t answer me. “They don’t know if he’s going to live?”
“They don’t know anything,” my mom explains. “Why wouldn’t you answer when I called?”
“Really? I don’t need you digging into me right now.”
“All I’m saying is I got you that damn calling plan so I could reach you.”
“Because every time you call me you just want to nag me about coming home!” I snap. “Jesus. Ben.” I suck in a sharp breath of air, my thoughts switching back to the idea of him lying in a hospital bed.
“Look, don’t flip out, I’m sure he’ll be fine. Keep your stinking phone on, will you?”
“Yeah.”
“I’ll call you as soon as I hear something.”
“Should I call the hospital?” I ask.
“Everything is so crazy there right now, I’d just wait if I were you,” she answers.
“Okay,” I reply. “Promise you’ll call the second you hear something.”
“Of course, sweetie. Just try and get some rest, all right?” My mom still has no grasp of the time difference or the fact that at this precise moment it’s only five-thirty in the evening here.
“I will,” I say, not in any frame of mind to try and explain once again how time zones work.
I KNOCK ON HER DOOR. I’ve been dying to see what she’s wearing. When I told her we were invited to a nice dinner at the home of some local friends, Kenzie had looked terrified. After a little bit of prying and pulling, I soon discovered this was because she was ill-prepared for such an occasion. Under the assumption she was on a one-week business trip to the African backcountry, Kenzie wisely only packed what she calls her “safari wear.”
If that, in and of itself, wasn’t adorable enough, when I offered her my credit card to go and purchase a dress from one of the local shops, she refused. She wouldn’t allow me to spend money on her in such a way. I told her it was a business write-off, but she wouldn’t be swayed. It was only when I agreed to withhold the cost from her future pay that she relented.
The door finally opens, and I frown when I see Kenzie wearing exactly what I had left her in an hour ago. My stomach sinks when I catch sight of her ruddy cheeks.
“Have you been crying?” I breathe the words desperately. I reach out and wrap my arms around her instinctively. This only serves to make her start crying again.
Stepping inside her room, I guide her to the bed, taking her arm to help her sit. Quickly I sit next to her, placing a hand around her waist. “Kenzie, you have to tell me what’s wrong. Has someone hurt you?”
She shakes her head, trying to catch her breath through the sobs, but she can’t. I see a brightly colored blue dress across the room, strewn across the back of a chair.
“Did something happen while you were dress shopping?” I ask as a million terrible scenarios run through my mind.
“No,” she finally screeches through heaving breaths. “Nothing happened to me. It’s Ben,” she manages at last.
“Ben?” I ask, bewilderment consuming me. “Your ex-boyfriend Ben?”
She nods.
“Something has happened to Ben?” I press.
She nods again, giving in to a handful of more sobs. I turn toward her, moving my knee up onto her bed and take both her hands into mine. “Okay, just try to take a few deep breaths and tell me what happened.”
Her pupils grow as her eyes widen in the dimly lit room. I feel wrecked. I want to comfort and reassure her. I want to be strong for her, but I can’t even figure out what the hell has happened.
“Did someone call?” I ask, trying to help her navigate the information rushing through her brain.
She nods, sniffs, and finally gives me a coherent answer, “My mom.”
“And she told you something happened to Ben?” I clarify.
She swallows before sucking in another audible breath. “She said one of the lifts at the shop collapsed on him.”
“Oh God,” the words escape my lips before I can stop them. The glare in her eyes tells me they revealed to her just how awful the situation was for the man.
She begins to tremble, and I squeeze her hands. “Look at me, baby.” She does as I ask her, “Did your mother know if he was going to be okay?”
She shakes her head. “They don’t know. She said it was too soon to know anything. I don’t know what to do. I feel like I should be doing something.”
“You should be,” I answer firmly, standing and moving over to the closet to grab her duffle bag.
“What?” she watches from the bed.
“Let’s get you packed and on the first flight out of here.” I don’t wait for her to respond as I unzip the bag and start to place her belongings inside.
She’s shaking her head, a confused expression on her face. “I don’t understand.”
“You need to go. You have to be there,” I assure her.
“But—” she hesitates, blinking repeatedly, “we broke up.”
“Baby, he’s obviously still important to you. You need to be there. I’ll stay a couple of days, finish the project we’re on, and then I’ll follow on another flight. Okay?”
“What if his family doesn’t want me there?” she asks.
“Kenzie, you’re incredible, they still love you, and it will bring everyone a little bit of peace if they see you,” I assure her.
“Aiden.” The way she says my name causes me to drop what I’m doing and walk directly to her. I fall to my knees and kiss her gently on the cheek.
Looking into her eyes, I say in an almost whisper, “If you don’t go, and something happens, you will always regret it. I won’t let you carry that. You’re going, okay?”
Her mouth falls open, and she silently agrees.
“YOU OKAY?” AIDEN ASKS, ENTWINING his fingers with mine. I pull my attention back from my random thoughts and focus on his concerned eyes.
“Huh?” I breathe. A strand of his hair is hanging in front of one of his eyes. Looking back at me, he uses his free hand to pull it back on top of his head. “Oh, yeah, sorry, just thinking.”
“About?” he presses.
I shrug, hesitant to tell him that I’m scared. I’m scared of so many things and that in and of itself frightens me. I am
terrified that Ben might be hurt a lot worse than my mother let on. I am afraid of how it will make me feel seeing him again. I ache at the thought of being away from Aiden. I am scared of what it means to have all of these random thoughts about two different men. I’m not good at love. I’m certain I would be very terrible at loving two men.
I exhale and force a grin. “I hate flying.” Though my answer is honest, it’s not the answer to the question he asked.
He gently squeezes my hand. “I’m so sorry I can’t be on that flight with you, babe.”
“It’s weird isn’t it?” I ask, determined to keep my focus on the here and now. “Do you realize we haven’t spent a night apart in what, at least six weeks? God, maybe more?”
He nods. “I do realize that, which is why I plan to be on the first plane I can back to the states.”
I shake my head, “I wasn’t trying to make you feel guilty or anything.”
“Guilty, God no. I just know I’m going to miss you like crazy. I doubt I can last too long without you here.”
“Ugh,” I moan in disgust.
“What’s wrong?” he asks as he leans in.
“We’re that couple aren’t we?”
He lifts his eyebrows in confusion. “I’m not sure what couple you’re referring to.”
“The one that is crammed so far up each other’s asses that they don’t notice the rest of the world around them,” I mutter.
He grins from ear to ear.
“What’s that for?” I inquire.
“Just picturing being crammed up your ass,” he whispers.
I shove him. “Gross,” I groan, my face briefly flushing a bright shade of red.
“Seriously, though,” he continues with a chuckle. “I like who we are. I like that you make me forget the rest of the world.”
“I wish I could forget the rest of the world,” I grumble, thinking of Ben back in Chicago, confined to a hospital bed.
Aiden leans in and presses his lips to my temple, delivering a gentle kiss. “I’m sure he’s going to be okay, babe.”
I nod, and a moment later I hear the boarding call for my flight. We stand, and Aiden walks me to my gate, never letting go of my hand. I love how hard it is for him to separate himself from me. I can’t help feeling the same way. My hand in his makes sense.
“I’m going to miss you,” I say to him, my lips thinning out.
“I know,” he whispers back, sucking in a deep breath and pulling my body in against his chest. He kisses my forehead. “I’m going to miss you, too.”
We linger as the other passengers board. I don’t want the embrace to end. I don’t want the certainty I feel in this moment toward Aiden to fade. Finally, the airline employee at the boarding station clears his throat.
“You better go,” Aiden says, breaking away from me. I nod, lean in for one more kiss, and turn toward the flight that will carry me to Chicago. Carry me to the uncertainty of the future of the man I once loved. Never have I wished more than anything that I could turn feelings off.
AS THE FLIGHT RUMBLES DOWN the runway, the tears begin to flow. I’m not sure why. Perhaps it’s because I feel helpless. Maybe it’s because I know how much Ben is hurting right now and it’s shattering me. Or, there’s also the chance it’s because I just had to tell the man I think I might be falling in love with that I had to leave him and the most amazing time of my life to race home and be at my ex-boyfriend’s side.
“Are you okay, dear?” An older woman asks. I look through blurred vision at her concerned eyes, her round face framed with wisps of gray.
I force a smile and clear my throat. “Yes, thank you. I’m just worried about a sick friend.”
“Oh my, what’s wrong with them?” She asks, as the plane begins to lift off the runway. I’m fine with flying. However, I am not okay with take off and landing. Gripping the armrests, I decide a little conversation might serve me well.
“He was in an accident,” I explain.
“Is he going to be all right?” her concern is genuine, and warmth washes over me. Aiden has a habit of only seeing the bad in people. I wished he could meet this woman and see the kindness behind her eyes.
“I don’t know yet,” I shake my head, as the plane continues to climb. “He was in an accident at work. As soon as I got the call, I got on a plane.”
“Oh, well then he must be very special to you.” My stomach drops at her words. He is special to me. Why should that upset me so much? I was never dishonest with Aiden about Ben. I told him I was in love with Ben at one time. He must know that I’m returning because I still care for him. Oh my God, I still care for him, what does that even mean?
I nod. I don’t want to talk to this woman anymore. “We were friends in college.” Why did I feel the need to oversimplify my relationship with Ben to her? Is there something I’m afraid to admit?
“Oh, really? Wow, you’re some friend then.”
“Thank you,” I smile again, before wiping my cheeks and laying my head back, closing my eyes. She takes the hint and falls silent. As the plane levels out, I can hear her rummaging around in her purse next to me. Peeking through just a slit, I see her pull out a book. A book! Damn it, why didn’t I think of that? Anything would be useful at this point to keep my mind off of Aiden or Ben.
Jesus, Ben. I can’t even imagine what his mom and dad are going through right now. After losing Ben’s brother in Afghanistan, I thought that family would never be the same. I suppose in some ways they aren’t. But now, this.
I’m not even sure if Ben will want to see me. I mean hell, I haven’t accepted his calls since, God … I can’t even remember the last time I spoke to him. Was I cruel? What if I had never left? Would he have even gotten in an accident? Wouldn’t we have found a way to be happy? We were happy once, weren’t we?
My thoughts drift to Aiden. What I feel when I’m with him is so utterly and completely different than anything I have ever felt when I was with Ben. Aiden makes me feel alive. He makes me feel like it’s okay to dream. Hell, I never even knew I wasn’t dreaming before. But Ben, he made me feel safe. He made me feel loved. He was loyal.
Jesus Kenzie, you’re describing good traits to have in a dog, not a boyfriend.
The plane feels like a casket. I’m trapped. I can feel the oxygen being used up around me. I know in my gut though I’m fooling myself. Ben was so much more to me. I wish I could scream so loud that he could hear me all the way in Chicago, but what would I even say? “Don’t worry, I’m here!”
I imagine what Ben looks like. Is the light in his eyes that drew me to him that first night in the bar on campus gone? His mom once told me that she wished she could take her son’s place when he was killed in action. I never understood how she could feel that way until now. I’d give anything for Ben not to be going through this, including putting myself in his place. But what in the hell does that mean about us? If I’m over him, and if I’m with Aiden now, how does that even make sense?
To my left, I can hear a Kenny Chesney song blaring from some kid’s headphones. Damn it, I didn’t even bring my headphones.
Summoning the stewardess, I purchase a pair of the crappiest set of headphones. Shoving them onto my ears, I slip them into the jack on the side of my seat and watch the scrolling commercials on the screen in front of me. I’m trapped on the longest flight imaginable with nothing to distract me from the thoughts plaguing me. No matter what the in-flight movie is, it has to be better than this.
I watch and wait impatiently. My breath catches in my throat when I see the movie begin. Are you freaking kidding me? P.S. I Love You. It couldn’t be a comedy on this flight, oh no, it has to be about a girl and her dead husband.
I FUMBLE THROUGH MY BAG, pulling out my phone to answer the ringtone. It’s Annabelle.
“Hello?” I say, my voice soft so the driver can’t hear.
“Is he okay?” she asks.
“I don’t know yet, I’m still in the taxi,” I answer. “But I’m heading straight there.”
“Your mom called me,” Annabelle says. “She wanted to know if I’d heard from you yet.”
I sigh, “I told her I would call her when I got in.”
“Apparently, Aiden called her.” Annabelle’s statement surprises me.
“What?”
“Yeah, she seemed surprised too.”
“Why would he have called her?” I ask, trying to make sense of it. I gave him a list of numbers of everyone in my life before I left, including Annabelle’s. I didn’t imagine any scenario in which he would have needed to use them.
“Apparently, he wanted to let her know you made it on the plane safely,” she explains.
“Seriously?”
“He sounds like a sweetie.”
“Yeah, I guess,” I say, my heart still aching.
“It’s okay, you’re allowed to be happy,” she assures me.
“I know!” I snap, though I’m only angry because she knows me too well. “I just have a lot of other things on my mind right now.”
I watch to make sure the driver doesn’t miss the exit. He doesn’t. “I’m almost there, I better go,” I add.
“Your mom saw him.” Annabelle ignores my statement.
“Who? Ben?”
“That’s what she said.”
“Well?” I gasp. “How is he?”
“You know your Mom,” she groans. “When I asked her, she said she didn’t feel up to talking about it, and she was sure you would fill me in when you saw him.”
“God, I can’t stand that woman sometimes,” I mutter, rolling my eyes.
“Call me after you see him, okay?”
“I will.”
“Tell him and his parents that we’re all praying for them,” she adds before hanging up.
I inhale deeply, then push all the air from my lungs. I feel like I might vomit at any moment. Minutes later, the cab rolls to a stop in front of the hospital.
OPEN YOUR EYES. I’VE BEEN telling myself this for what seems like hours, but my body won’t respond. Occasionally, I hear a distant voice, and want to call out to it, but I can’t seem to do that either.
