by Ann Lister
“Do you have an appointment?”
“No and I'm hoping she'll see me without one,” Ben said.
“One moment, please,” the woman said, and disappeared into the office behind her desk.
A few minutes later, Carol emerged from her office. “Ben Gallo! It's nice to finally meet you,” Carol said, and extended her hand for Ben to shake.
“Likewise,” Ben said.
Carol waved him into her office and sat behind an over-sized desk.
“Please, have a seat,” Carol said to Ben.
Ben stepped into the office and glanced around quickly. The room was tremendously cluttered and smelt like dust and stale cigarettes. Carol's desk was completely covered with piles of photographs and files. All were strewn across the top making it impossible to see the wood of the desk. A seriously neglected plant sat on one end of the desk. His eyes moved to the walls of the room and scanned swiftly. Dozens of framed photographs hung in every format imaginable, then his eyes froze on several that were of him.
“I see you found Sydney's ‘Wall of Shame’,” Carol said.
“Excuse me?” Ben asked.
“I probably could have worded that differently,” she said. “No disrespect intended.”
“None taken,” Ben replied defensively.
“So, what can I do for you?” Carol asked.
“Where's Sydney?” he asked, then removed a pile of papers from the chair in front of Carol's desk and sat down in it.
“I'm not at liberty to reveal the locations of my photographers,” she said. “It's a security issue. I'm sure you can understand.”
“No, actually I don't understand, Carol. I really need to find Sydney,” he said.
“I'm sorry, Ben, all I can tell you is, she's working in Europe.”
“Europe?”
“London, to be exact. She took a job doing some calendar work and she'll be gone for quite a while.”
Ben studied Carol's expression intently. He knew she was very close to Sydney. Their relationship was more like mother-daughter than anything. It was not out of the realm of probability that Carol was now lying to Ben to keep him away from Sydney. Any further conversation with Carol was pointless. He stood up from his chair and moved toward the door.
“Thank you for your time, Carol,” Ben said.
“Next time she calls, I'll tell her you stopped by. That's the best I can do.”
Ben ignored her comment and drifted into the outer office area.
“Oh, Ben!” Carol called to him.
He walked back to Carol's doorway.
“I'm sorry about the baby,” Carol said.
Ben's body went rigid. “What about the baby?”
“Sydney miscarried a couple of weeks ago. That's why she decided to take the job in London.”
Ben flew back to Maryland with little memory of the flight. Everything around him was a blurry haze. He was numb. When he arrived home, he reached into his pocket to retrieve the house keys and heard something hit the wooden deck beside his feet. He switched on the outside light and saw Sydney's pregnancy stick. He had saved it from when she had thrown it at him. It had represented hope to him, but now there was none. Sydney was gone and so was their baby.
Ben slipped into seclusion, rarely leaving the house. He watched the Fall turn into the bitter starkness of Winter, the days blending together much like the sand on the beach, bland and beige. He kept his promise and severed his ties with Simon and opted not to take a flight out to see his parents for Christmas. Instead, he spent the holidays alone in Maryland. He mourned the loss of his child and he still ached miserably for Sydney. She drifted into his dreams almost nightly, making him wake longing for her even more.
By the time Spring arrived, he realized he had survived six months without Sydney and, although he didn't like living alone, he was adapting. He slowly began developing the photographs of Sydney from their vacation the previous summer. In the end, he had dozens of them to hang on his walls. Most were black and white snapshots that she wasn't aware he had taken. Her face was everywhere he looked.
On a trip into town, he spotted a ‘for-sale’ sign in a store front window. He purchased the building and turned it into a photography store, complete with a studio section for the local photographers to display their work. He filled the shelves with inventory for the basic hobbyist to the high-end professional. There were cameras of every format and model - even dark room supplies. He also hired an in-store staff to take care of the day-to-day sales; while he concentrated on the business end of it. In his free time, he read every book imaginable to educate himself with the ever changing line of equipment and new techniques.
He kept himself busy and did his best to adjust to life without his band or Sydney. It wasn't an ideal existence, but he was surviving.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Sydney's decision to leave Ben and quit the tour was made in the heat of the moment, when her anger and hurt were at a boiling point. At the time, and given the circumstances, it seemed to be the only logical choice. With her self-esteem shattered and her pride in finishing every job tarnished, she'd flown straight back to New York City. Then, in the safety of her apartment, she hid from the world for an entire week and cried endless tears until she had nothing left inside her. The ring of her phone was ignored, as were the knocks at her door.
When she finally came out of her self-imposed solitary confinement, the first person she visited was Carol. Carol knew of Sydney's pregnancy, but not the reason behind her sudden departure from Ben's tour.
“Where the hell have you been?” Carol asked. “I've been calling you for days!”
“I needed time to deal with everything,” Sydney said. She sat down in a chair in front of Carol's desk.
“Would you like to explain to me what happened?” Carol asked.
Sydney ignored Carol's question and looked toward the window.
“I just came from my first prenatal doctors appointment,” Sydney said.
Carol perked up in her chair. “And, how's our baby?”
“The doctor thinks I'm already about three months along. Can you believe that?” she said. Tears began to trickle down her cheeks. “I'm really going to have a baby.”
Carol stood up and went to Sydney and hugged her tightly.
“Look, I know this isn't the way you had planned it to be, but we can do this, Sydney. We'll do it together.”
“It still hurts.”
“Tell me what happened, Sydney.”
“I'm not ready to talk about it yet.”
“Okay. I'll respect your decision and when you're ready, you know I'm here to listen,” Carol said in a motherly tone.
In the weeks that followed, Sydney immersed herself in preparing for the baby's arrival. She transformed the guest room into a baby's room and read every book on pregnancy and childbirth she could get her hands on. She even signed up for prenatal, birthing, and exercise classes with Carol.
As Sydney knew she would, Carol, took on her role of surrogate spouse with great enthusiasm and attended every doctor appointment her schedule allowed and all sorts of classes.
As the months slowly passed, Sydney watched her body change, growing bigger and bigger. Through it all, her thoughts were never far from Ben. She was aware he had stopped by Carol's office and she also knew Carol had lied and told him she had miscarried. She knew telling him that was wrong, but it offered her some sense of relief knowing he wouldn't come looking for her when the baby was born. At least for now, she could focus on growing a healthy baby and not have to deal with the painful memories surrounding Ben.
With Carol by her side, Sydney delivered a healthy baby girl in early April. The little girl looked like Sydney, with a patch of blond hair that matched her mother's shade and the same delicate facial features. She named her daughter Jenna and listed Ben's name on the birth certificate as the father, but gave the baby her last name of Willows. Jenna was her mother's daughter in every sense, except for her eyes. Jenna unmistakably had h
er fathers intense green eyes.
Less than twenty-four hours after giving birth, Sydney brought her baby home from the hospital and settled into motherhood. Her days were consumed with caring for Jenna, but it was during the nights that she felt the loneliness of being alone almost overwhelming.
In a moment of weakness, she picked up her apartment phone and dialed Ben's cell number. It was a impulse that she hadn't thought through clearly, in terms of what she might say if he actually answered her call. Ben's phone rang three times and then went to voice mail. Sydney heard the soft timbre of Ben's voice giving instructions for leaving a message and nearly dropped the phone. Her body began to tremble. It had been six months since she had talked to him, and still, the mere sound of his voice brought her to her knees. Sydney hung up her phone and vowed never to call him again. Talking to him would only dredge up painful memories too difficult for her to deal with. Somehow, she had to figure out a way to move forward with her life.
Jenna grew steadily. Almost daily, she was reaching new milestones in her young life and Sydney chronicled every one of them. Her first steps, first tooth, first words; it was all documented in photographs and video. Before Sydney knew it, she was preparing for her daughter's first Christmas. Two weeks before Christmas, Sydney received a package in the mail. She opened the box and found the coffee table picture book from Ben's tour.
The book was titled, Reckless Roads, and contained several hundred photographs Sydney had taken while on tour with Ben. Sydney swiftly closed the cover of the book and set it aside, tears immediately covered her face. It was agony to see the pictures again, even though it had been over a year, it still felt fresh. Also inside the box was a greatest hits CD from Ben's band.
Sydney dialed Carol's phone number.
“Why did you send me this book?” Sydney asked angrily.
“What book?” Carol asked.
“The book from Ben's tour.”
“I didn't send you any books, Syd.”
A long pause fell in their conversation, as Sydney searched her trash for the empty mailing box. The post mark read: Ocean City Maryland. Sydney dropped the cardboard box as if it had burned her hand.
“Oh, my God! Ben sent this to me.”
Carol smiled to herself. “I guess Christmas came early for you. Perhaps you should call him and say thank you. And while you have him on the phone you might consider mentioning he has an eight month old daughter, too.”
“I'm not calling him! Its been over a year and I'm sure he's moved on. For all I know, he's married.”
“What the hell does that have to do with him knowing he has a daughter?” Carol asked.
Sydney shifted on the couch.
“How does the book look?” Carol asked.
“I can't look at it. The memories are still too fresh.”
“Are you ever going to tell me what happened between you and Ben?” Carol asked.
Sydney paused and wiped the tears from her cheeks. “It turned out Ben wasn't the man he claimed to be.”
“You let me know when you find a man that is, and I'll marry him.”
Sydney ended the call and glanced at the photo book sitting on the table in front of her couch. As if it could bite her, she carefully flipped open the hard bound cover. Her photographs were aligned over each page with the personal diary excerpts from each band member scattered around each image. Most of the text was written by Ben. He described what it was like to live out of hotel rooms for months on end and the stresses of day to day traveling on tour buses and planes. But, he also spoke about what it was like to unexpectedly find love while on the road. Although Sydney's name was never mentioned, she knew he has referring to her.
The photographs were mostly black and white images of Ben and his band going through the daily grind of a tour. Several shots were very personal of Ben all by himself that she had captured when they were alone.
One of her favorites was of him sitting up against the headboard of a king-sized bed, rumpled sheets curled around his bare feet. He was wearing a pair of blue jeans and nothing else, his favorite acoustic guitar laying across his lap. Contentment poured from his eyes as he smiled into the camera.
She remembered each and every picture, when it was taken and where. All were indelibly burned into her memory.
The last page of the book gave each band member the opportunity to thank the people who mattered most in their lives. Ben thanked their road crew for fifteen years of dedicated service and he officially announced his retirement from the band. The last few sentences of his entry personally addressed Sydney - and this time he used her first name. He thanked her for loving him, making him a better man, and how he'd never look at life the same way again. He ended it by saying: I'll always love you. B.
Sydney put the book onto her bookshelf and went to bed. It would be hours before she could stop crying and weeks before she could bring herself to look at the book again.
As Jenna grew older, Sydney began showing the book to her, explaining that the man in the photographs was her daddy. Sydney did this show-and-tell lesson over and over until Jenna would point to the pictures on her own and say: “Daddy”.
On the occasion of Jenna's third birthday, Carol was in the kitchen helping Sydney fill plates with cake and ice cream for the guests waiting in Sydney's living room.
“The older that girl gets, I see more and more of her father in her. She even has some of his facial mannerisms. Have you noticed the way she tips her mouth when she smiles?” Carol asked Sydney.
“Yes, I've seen it, too,” Sydney replied, and reached for a stack a plates in a cupboard beside the kitchen sink. “It can be quite unnerving at times.”
“How much longer are you going to wait before you tell Ben?” Carol said quietly. She asked the question knowing she was about to provoke another argument by broaching the subject.
Sydney turned to face Carol and rolled her eyes. “I'm not discussing that today, Carol. For God's sake, its Jenna's birthday.”
“Another birthday celebration for a child who's father us unaware of her existence. Do you think that's fair, Sydney?”
“Stop it! I can't think about this now,” Sydney said, her voice rising.
“Then when? When will it be a good time to discuss this? You've been back to work for six months, Sydney. How much longer do you think your luck is going to hold before someone takes a look at that child's face and figures out who fathered her?”
Sydney washed her hands at the sink. “I know you don't believe this, but not a day goes by that I don't think about Ben. I understand he has the right to know he's a father, but so much time has passed, I don't know what to say.” Sydney dried her hands and faced Carol. “I don't know how to fix this.”
“Call him. That would be a great start.”
Two months later, Sydney was racing toward a photo shoot at the Ocean City Civic Center in Maryland. She decided to make a weekend out of her one-day job and bring Jenna along with her nanny. They stayed at a hotel on the Jersey shore and drove down to Maryland in a rental car the following day. She was only a few miles from the arena when she realized she had forgotten to pack the special black and white film needed to do the shoot.
Sydney called the photographic supply store in New York City, where she usually did business, and was referred to a small specialty shop only twenty minutes south of the convention center that had this particular brand of film in-stock. Sydney called the store and asked them to put a case of the film aside and headed south along the coast. With each passing mile, she began to recognize the area. A feeling of dread began to creep into her. When she turned onto the main street where the small photo shop was located, it all came back to her.
Sydney swore and pulled the car to the curb outside the store.
“What's wrong?” the nanny asked.
“This is the town Ben used to live,” Sydney said to Madeline.
“You don't say.”
“His house was a couple of miles up that road,” Sydney said s
oftly. “I have no idea if he still owns it though.”
Sydney glanced at the people walking along the sidewalks and at the front door to the store. Then her gaze turned to the backseat where Jenna was soundly sleeping.
“Wait here with Jenna,” she said to Maddy. “I'll be right back.”
“Can I help you?” the sales clerk inside the store asked Sydney.
“I called a little while ago about your professional grade black and white film.”
“It's in the store room,” the young woman said. “I'll get it for you.”
Sydney watched her disappear into the back room and then glanced around the store. The selection of photography equipment was impressive, everything from cameras to dark room chemicals and for every level of expertise.
Sydney spun around and spotted an entire wall of framed photographs of all shapes, sizes and format. The name of the artist hung beside each section, and several were for sale. As she moved down the wall of photographs, her eyes spotted a floor to ceiling section of enlargements all done using black and white film. In seconds the recognition hit her. She covered her mouth to prevent a gasp from escaping. She didn't have to look at the name to know who had taken the photographs. The artist was Ben and every photograph was of her. His photographic styling was unmistakable. She'd know it anywhere.
“Those aren't for sale,” the clerk said, when she returned to the front of the store carrying a box of film for Sydney. “My boss would kill me if I let someone leave with one of those.”
Sydney handed her credit card to the young girl and hoped the girl hadn't noticed how badly her hand was shaking.
“He's a local guy,” the clerk said.
“Excuse me?”
“The photographer that took those photographs is a local guy. Since you're in the business, you might have heard of him. His name is…”
“I know who he is,” Sydney said quickly. She couldn't bear to hear Ben's name said aloud. “I'm familiar with his work.”
“His photography work or his music?” the girl asked. “He's known more for his music.”
