by Elena Aitken
“Maybe later,” he said. “I’ll be back for the evening shift, but I have to run right now.”
“I can’t promise a sandwich,” Michael said. “But I’ll save you a bowl of soup.”
Ben laughed. Even as the boss, he didn’t seem to have any pull when it came to enjoying the amazing food Michael created. Ever since he’d started working at the Log and Jam, the pub had become one of the most popular lunch destinations in town, and the dinner crowd was picking up too. Business was booming. Which was a good thing, considering the loan he’d just taken out in order to make the patio happen in time for the summer season.
But he couldn’t think about that right now. It would only stress him out and there was nothing he could do about it. Sometimes you needed to spend money to make money, and the pub business wasn’t any different. The patio would pay off; he knew it would.
Ten minutes later, Ben was across town in the childhood bedroom he’d shared with his older brother. It never failed to hit him how much things hadn’t changed inside this room, with the matching twin beds, various posters tacked to the walls—mostly cars because their mom wouldn’t let them put up anything that might be considered too provocative. Good thing she didn’t know about the Playboy Eric had stolen from a friend’s dad when he was thirteen.
Ben chuckled a little at the memory of how Eric had given him the contraband magazine two years later when he’d turned thirteen. He’d treated it very seriously, as if it were a rite of passage for his little brother. Things had been different then. They’d been close when they were young. Inseparable. Ben’s chest ached with the familiar pain of loss that had dulled, but not disappeared in the months since his brother passed.
He didn’t think it would ever go away completely. How do you fill the hole your brother leaves behind? It was a question he couldn’t even begin to answer.
The idea of searching for the box where he’d hid that magazine crossed Ben’s mind. No doubt it was still under his bed where he’d left it all those years ago. But he shook it off. That’s not what he’d come to find.
“What are you looking for, Ben?” His mother’s voice from the doorway startled him out of his memories and Ben turned around to see Sylvia Ross, a dishtowel in her hands, watching him.
“Sorry, Mom. I didn’t think you were home.” Ben crossed the room and gave his mother a quick hug and kiss on the cheek.
She looked tired. Older. She’d aged at least ten years since Eric had died. It wasn’t easy to lose a brother; Ben couldn’t even imagine how hard it had been for his mom to lose her oldest child.
“You look good, Mom.”
She gave him a look that made it clear she knew he was lying, but she managed a smile anyway. “I’ve been sleeping a little better these days.”
“It’ll come, Mom. Maybe you should go see the doctor about some sleeping pills. You really do need to take care of yourself.”
She shook her head and waved the dishtowel to dismiss the idea. “The best medicine for me is seeing you. Can I get you a cup of tea?”
Ben instantly felt guilty. He knew he wasn’t spending enough time with his parents. But there was only so much time in the day, and…well… “I’m sorry, Mom. Not right now. I came to grab something. But I’ll come for dinner tomorrow,” he added when his mother’s face fell.
“I’ll make roast chicken.” Her face once more lifted, but Ben’s guilt didn’t disappear. “And I’ll see if Drew and Austin would like to come by as well. There’ll be plenty for everyone.”
“It sounds perfect.” Ben made a quick mental note about making sure the bar was staffed properly for the following night. He wouldn’t let his mom down.
“What is it exactly that you are looking for?” Sylvia asked as Ben got down on his hands and knees and started rooting around Eric’s old bed.
“I’m hoping that you still haven’t cleaned under here,” he teased.
“If you’re talking about that dirty magazine, I got rid of it years ago.”
“What?” Ben lifted his head so quickly, it made a sharp, hard contact with the bed frame. “Ouch.” He turned around, his hand on his head to see his mother grinning at him.
“Don’t tell me I don’t clean under there.”
He couldn’t help but laugh as he resumed his search. A moment later, it was Ben’s turn to smile as his hand landed on the item he’d been hoping to find.
“Got it.” He held the item up over his head in triumph. “I’m glad you’re so sentimental, Mom. Because I know one little boy who I’m hoping will be pretty excited to see this when he gets home from school.”
“Oh, Ben.” Sylvia put her hand to her mouth and bit her bottom lip. “I didn’t even think…you’re so thoughtful.”
He shrugged. “Anything for him, Mom. Anything.” He gave his mother a kiss on the cheek. “Don’t cry, Mom. Please.”
Sylvia wiped her tears, but Ben was sure she’d be crying again the moment he left. He knew in his heart that it would have broken Eric’s heart to see his mother still so torn up about his death, but she’d always been an emotional woman. Strong, but emotional. She was healing; it was just taking her a bit longer.
“I’ll be fine.” She waved him away. “You get going and I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Ben left his mother at the front door, and made the quick drive down the street. Not even five minutes later, he was parked in front of the low-rise bungalow where he’d spent more time in the last nine months than his own house.
She may have been laughing as she fell from the boxes, but Drew definitely wasn’t laughing a second later as she toppled to the ground. Fortunately for her, she landed in one of two oversized cardboard boxes where she’d packed a variety of throw pillows that Eric had always complained were more of a pain in the ass than decorative.
At the moment, considering her somewhat soft landing that could have been a lot worse, Drew couldn’t think of anything negative at all to say about the blue and yellow throw cushions she’d bought a few years earlier to brighten up their living room, despite the way Eric used to toss them to the floor whenever he wanted to watch television.
“It’s a good thing I wasn’t very good at donating much of anything.” She laughed and rubbed her hip that had connected with something a little less soft that must have been hiding under the pillows.
“Jesus Christ! Drew?”
She tried to swing her head around toward the voice, and the front of the garage, but Drew was somewhat stuck in the box. Like a turtle on the back of their shell. The image made her laugh again.
“Are you okay?”
She leaned her head farther backward, stretching until she could make out the image of her savior. Her eyes landed first on the work boots before traveling up to the muscular legs clad in worn denim, the narrow waist, untucked t-shirt and finally familiar dark hair and green eyes. Her laughter caught in her throat as she sucked in a sharp breath.
Eric.
Drew froze in place, not that she could move very much anyway, as her eyes focused on the upside-down man.
She blinked once and then again.
No. It wasn’t Eric. Of course.
“Drew? Are you okay?”
Ben.
A second later, Ben stood over her, his face twisted in a frown. “What the hell? Did you…” He glanced up and took in what was left of the precariously stacked totes. “Were you climbing that?”
She opened her mouth to answer, but ended up closing it again and shaking her head in an effort to clear the image of Eric—her late husband and Ben’s older brother—from her mind. It wasn’t even that they looked anything alike. Eric had been fair and slighter in stature—even before he got sick—than Ben, who had dark features and a much more muscular build. But every once in a while, Drew was struck by some similarity. Something Ben said, those deep eyes, or the way he stood, or…something else.
Just like Eric.
“I’m fine,” she said after a moment. “But I seem to be a little stuck.”
> Ben reached for her arms and lifted her easily out of the box and set her upright on her feet as if she were a doll. “Were you seriously climbing up that stack of totes?” he asked again.
She tilted her head in answer and raised an eyebrow.
“What the hell, Drew? You could have killed yourself.”
“But I didn’t.”
“I don’t think that’s the point.”
She took a step toward some of the totes that had toppled down with her and winced in pain, her hand flying to her hip. Whatever she’d landed on was definitely not a throw pillow.
“You okay?”
“I really am.” Ben was sweet and had been nothing but amazing since they’d come home and then especially after Eric had passed. She didn’t know what she would have done without him over the last few months and the way he’d taken care of her and Austin and made sure she was eating properly, getting out of the house, and of course taking care of some of the random jobs around the house. Along with Amber, one of her best friends, Ben had been an absolute rock over the last few months. But as amazing as the care and attention was, more and more Drew had been looking for opportunities to stand on her own two feet without depending on anyone else.
Even if she should have asked for help.
Ben was still looking at her with disbelief on his face. “Really,” she said. “I’m okay. I just landed a little funny. I’ll probably have a bruise is all.”
Fortunately, Ben didn’t press the issue but instead put his hands on his own hips and looked around the disaster of a garage. “What are you looking for anyway?”
She sighed. She’d been looking all afternoon and still hadn’t found Austin’s glove. “Austin starts Little League tonight,” she said. “Eric bought him a glove last summer and they’d tossed the ball around a little bit in the backyard before…well, before we moved. I need to find it.”
A shadow passed over Ben’s face but it was gone as quick as it came. “Okay then,” he said. “We’ll find it.” He grabbed one of the totes that was now laying on its side. “I assume you were reaching for these?”
She nodded as relief washed over her. Something about Ben’s presence, despite her desire for independence, was comforting and strong and just made her feel as though everything was going to be okay. For the first time in hours, Drew actually felt as if they would in fact find the glove in time for Austin’s practice.
With Ben’s help, they sorted through the last few bins and in the second to last one, finally found what they were looking for.
Drew held it up triumphantly. “Thank you so much.”
He shrugged the way he always did, brushing off how helpful he was. “You know I would have helped you from the beginning, right? I mean, I know you’re perfectly capable of looking through boxes,” he said quickly before she could object. “But sometimes these things are made a little easier with two sets of hands. Especially considering…” He waved his arms around.
Drew knew he was referring to how hard it probably was to go through all of their things, or, more specifically, Eric’s things.
“It was fine.” It wasn’t totally a lie. It hadn’t been nearly as hard as she’d expected it might be. “What are you doing here, anyway? Don’t you have a patio to put together?”
“I do.” He grinned and gestured outside. “Come on,” he said. “Let’s get out of here.”
Drew laughed and shook her head. “I can’t go to the Log and Jam right now. I have to go get Austin from school right away and an early dinner and—what’s that?”
Ben stood on her driveway, proudly holding a wooden baseball bat in his hands. He gave her a sideways look.
“I mean, I know what it is.” She smacked his arm. “But what is it? As in…where did it come from?”
“I went by Mom and Dad’s earlier. By the way, Mom wants you to come for dinner tomorrow.”
Drew nodded. Absolutely they’d go for dinner. Spending time with Sylvia and Mitch had been good for everyone after Eric died. She’d even noticed Sylvia crying less and less.
“This was Eric’s bat when he was a kid,” Ben continued. “I think he got some sort of record number of home runs or something with it. It was under his bed, just where he’d left it.”
Heat rushed to her face. “It was…” She reached for the bat. “It was Eric’s?”
Ben nodded. “He never let me use it. Well, except that one time. But that was different.” He shook his head and his smile was back. “It was his lucky bat and I’m absolutely positive he’d want Austin to have it.”
Drew took the bat from him and held it in her own hands. It was way too big for Austin. At least it would be for a few years, but without a doubt it was an incredibly special gift. “Ben, this is perfect. He’ll love it. Thank you.”
To Drew’s surprise, she wasn’t going to cry. The tears threatened, but then they were gone. It was getting easier and easier to control the sadness that still washed over her with a regularity that was exhausting.
* * *
Read the rest of Drew’s story When We Fell!
Copyright © 2018 by Elena Aitken
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
* * *
This is a work of fiction. The events and characters described herein are imaginary and are not intended to refer to specific places or living persons. The opinions expressed in this manuscript are solely the opinions of the author and do not represent the opinions or thoughts of the publisher. The author has represented and warranted full ownership and/or legal right to publish all the materials in this book.
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